To Sow a Barren Land: Book II
by XxIrisxX
Summary: Thranduil conceives. Meanwhile the lies thicken, darkness grows more powerful and no matter how careful Oropher is, he is unable to resist his Realm being claimed by it. Where on one hand evil thrives, on the other love too finds its way in two hearts. However, fickle as it is, Fate works in a mysterious manner and Thranduil & Rainion soon discover the cost. Please see tags inside.
1. Chapter 1

**To Sow a Barren Land: Book II**

**Disclaimer:** This is how I see it: had I owned 'The Hobbit' or anything else, I'd be famous all over the world and you'd see hot elves with buns in their ovens and lots and lots of steamy smex.

**Summary:** Thranduil conceives. Meanwhile the lies thicken, darkness grows more powerful and no matter how careful Oropher is, he is unable to resist his Realm being claimed by it. Where on one hand evil thrives, on the other love too finds its way in two hearts. However, fickle as it is, Fate works in a mysterious manner and Thranduil and Rainion soon discover the cost. Thranduil/Original Male Character, Thorin Oakenshield/Original Female Character, past Thorin/Thranduil. Sequel to _To Sow a Barren Land: Book I_

**Warning:** Mpreg, Infertility, Heavy Angst, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Sad Ending, Future Character Death, Drama

**AN: O**uuuuukaaayyyy: So, here we are: Book II.I guess I am late in saying this but Thranduil might (will) come out as a little (maybe a bit more than little) OOC. It's real hard to keep him IC in such a situation. But if it goes way overboard, lemme know immediately! And yeah, I have taken ample liberty with the history of events. It's unfair to Tolkien but I hope you can forgive me. D:

Slowly, we will be driving towards The War of the Last Alliance. Thorin has taken a bit of a backseat but he will come to the picture. Meanwhile, you'll notice a change in Thranduil and Rainion's attitudes. Thranduil: He has no one by his side. He understands what he has done wrong and he tries to redeem himself. But more so, he just wants a friend. And Rainion: he has waited for so long and has received nothing but slaps across his cheeks. He has had enough. I really hope it shows through!

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

"The woods grow darker and the produce is scanty. It is not only because of the upcoming winter, Your Majesty," One of the advisors suggested, wearily looking at the king—who stared back thoughtfully—before he lowered his eyes and continued, "One of our patrols noticed a slow growth of power near Dol Guldor even though they haven't been close to it."

He paused a little and licked his lips. His throat felt parched all of a sudden and the way Oropher continued to stare only increased the elf's anxiety.

He looked up again and keenly waited for the king's judgement. He could feel his gaze becoming intense just as Oropher's orbs settled on him with awareness before they slid shut.

The elf shifted on his feet. He frowned as he was perplexed from the king's action. Greenwood was burdened with many troubles and the king _was _wise. However somewhere along the line, over the past few weeks, he did not seem to be as energised as he normally was.

Over the past few weeks, the court had seen lesser and lesser of the prince as well. Oropher said he was designated other duties. None believed it entirely but none dared to rival the king's explanation.

Licking his lips again, the advisor was about to call on his lord when he was stopped midway as the king straightened up and descended from his throne.

"And what of the dwarves? Have you any news of the state of that feud?" Oropher asked, folding his hands behind his back and beginning to pace across the room.

The elf's eyes followed him left and right and when Oropher glanced at him over the shoulders and frowned at him impatiently, he sighed. He quickly shrugged off his inattentiveness and said, "The word is: Doriath has sent scouts to all dwarf establishments. Villages have been claimed, prisoners were taken but none of them knew anything about the sudden attack."

The steady sound of steps stopped and with a sudden screeching sound, Oropher spun and locked eyes with him, startling the advisor massively. Green orbs were narrowed and before he knew it, quickened steps echoed throughout the room as the king hastened over to him and with a sneer on his face, Oropher tilted his head, "_What?_ Have the mercy of telling me there has been no casualties."

"There..." The elf stopped, his courage leaving him suddenly, as he stooped his gaze towards the ground. He shifted even more on his feet and hesitantly replied, "There have been _some _casualties, my lord."

"Does 'some' have a quantity or am I to take this as you putting my full discretion on the quantity?" Oropher snapped at which the elf winced and momentarily brought up his eyes till the king's mouth before his courage failed him and he lowered them on to the floor.

From what he had seen, Oropher's jaws were tight and his nostrils flared in anger, the likes of which none in that room wanted to be reflective of.

"So I am to _guess _the number because my informants believe _some _to be a range? Well speak up!" The king snarled through gritted teeth and it was clear that the patience he had restrained for so long was now dwindling.

Eventually, the advisor dared to straighten up and despite the glare he was receiving, he cleared his throat and with genuine fear-mingled hesitation answered, "Dale is in chaos. Three localities have been ruined by the elf scouts. They suspect it was their lord. For he was one who was considering a new tryst with our kind only recently."

He briefly glanced towards another colleague, who looked at him with pity, before setting his focus back on the elven king's grim face. Suppressing his own sense of foreboding of what was yet to come, he continued, "And as news reached to the Noldor, they responded to Doriath's call. It was they who worsened the situation by killing an innocent peasant. Then the feud began."

As he had predicted, fire erupted in Oropher's glare. His nostrils flared up furiously and chest heaved hard from trying to attain self-control from the violent anger that he felt inside. He directed his sharp vision towards the advisor and as the full heat of fire reached him, the other elf wanted nothing more than to _not_ stand in front of a furious king.

"And Gil-galad _allowed _such atrocity?" Oropher hissed, narrowing his eyes dangerously and looked away, settling to glare at the wall in front of him. The elf felt relieved as he was not under such scrutiny. He breathed in the much needed air and spoke softly, "My lord...the High-king. He wasn't aware."

At that, Oropher's eyes flashed with such rage that it threatened to burn down whatever it was in front of him. His fists became tighter and his jaws were clenched with so much force that his face and arms began trembling.

"He wasn't _aware_?" His tone spewed venom and his eyes flashed so infuriatingly, making the advisor flinch and automatically want to look down back on the floor. He was interrupted when Oropher faced him and rebuked mercilessly, "That fool wasn't aware that he might have vigilantes on his hands? Look what has happened now! It'll be exceptional luck if Erebor doesn't interfere! Very soon, Loth Lórien will be pulled into this silliness and if Lórien participates, I can only estimate how long we have before we are drawn into this as well!"

"I—"

"Doesn't matter though. Greenwood will not respond to such madness. There was a reason I chose to be away from those fools and I intend to keep it that way. I have bigger things to worry about. Like that growing power, you say?" Oropher changed his tone suddenly, his eyes now losing all traces of rage and curiosity quickly creeping in its place.

The elf was startled at the sudden change in attitude and he couldn't help but frown while he was trying to come out of the daze he was in.

"Y-yes," he started, looking at his colleagues for support who were just as confused and shrugged back at him. He withheld his urge to roll his eyes at them and directed his attention back on to his king, "The forest seems darker and gloomier. We have seen many winters but none can attribute to the darkness cast upon the Dol Guldur."

"But it lies in ruins. It is empty." Oropher wheezed, looking away and staring into space. His face lost its coldness entirely and a shadow of dread and fear could be seen in his expressions as he inwardly began deliberating.

The elf nodded and confirmed Oropher's dilemma at which, the eeriness in his expression all but increased.

"They believe it is magic. A very powerful magic."

"Something no mortal can yield." Oropher finished for the other, his eyes widening as the prospect of things dawned on him. "Or _immortals_."

"Saplings, which had been planted after your return, withered and died. Animals are starting to move away. The patches of land which we thought to be barren are rapidly claimed by the woods." As he described, he noticed how gradually the elven king's face became tenser and tenser by the second. His eyes were staring off into the distance and were marred with a haunting feeling hat chilled the very essence of the elf's core.

"Perhaps these are all connected, my king." He ended off and waited for Oropher to respond. His own mind was concerned and the way fear crawled inside his own heart only attested to how right Orpher's eeriness was.

The king let out a slow and shuddered breath. "Perhaps one is a cause which has set the other's effect." He spoke with a chill, his voice rasped and face dry and his eyes shone with a dreadful suspicion.

After a while, he focused his vision back on to the advisor and even though he tried appearing regal and unfazed, a clear line of horror peeped out from those bright green eyes, making the other elf shiver with just as much trepidation...if not more.

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><p>Rainion poured tea onto a cup and carefully handed it over to Thranduil. He missed the grateful note in the other's eyes and ignored the little struggle the elf prince made as he tried to sit up straight on his chair with his growing belly.<p>

He brought a plate of biscuits and truffles to the other and as his eyes met Thranduil's bright and gentle orbs, he lowered his gaze and turned away abruptly to set the plate on a nearby table, trying not to see how Thranduil's face suddenly twisted with sadness.

It would hurt him at other times when he'd probably rebuke himself for deliberately causing worry to the prince. He'd probably apologize heavily and would try to do anything in his power to get Thranduil to notice how he was willing to do anything for him.

But now, he was weary. He had done everything imaginable for the elf to be happy. However, repeated rejections had their toll on Rainion as well. He was tired and he was lethargic. He didn't wish to capture Thranduil's attention. He merely wanted to get his duties done.

"Rainion, please come closer."

The prince's voice entered his ears. It was still so melodic and yet so full of disconcert—yet Rainion felt nothing. He had grown hard and cold.

He nodded obligingly and came to the edge of the bed. "Do you require something, Your Highness?" He asked as curtly as possible, trying not to let his coldness seep into his voice.

The way Thranduil frowned slightly for a second only proved how _partly _successful he was. His eyes dropped on the empty cup and he took it, quickly turning his back to the other. He was headed for the table to refill but stopped in his tracks when Thranduil's voice chimed again, "Won't you look at me?"

He clenched his jaws and narrowed his eyes slightly, counting in his mind as he pushed the upcoming words down his throat. He again moved towards the table and did his task, handing the cup over to the other and carefully _missing _the prince's eyes huge with expectation as he looked over at the Silvan.

Rainion thought, perhaps it was the progressing pregnancy that drove Thranduil to a need for closure. Or perhaps he was the only elf who was with Thranduil for most of the day. Whatever it was, the Thranduil who openly disregarded his presence or his paternity was the same elf who was more mellowed and sullen each time Rainion chose to avoid him.

"Am I so vain that I don't deserve a fickle of your attention?" Rainion's eyes flickered for a moment and they settled on the Sinda. Thranduil smiled bitterly and began stroking his belly before he looked over at the other and let out a chuckle. It was by far the saddest form of smile Rainion had ever seen. It had no warmth nor will. It was as if the haughty prince had accepted all that he had done and was now in deep repent.

Yet his ice didn't melt. Still he felt no remorse for the blond. Absolutely _nothing._

It was ironic—Rainion thought—that those very words escaped Thranduil's lips. Once he had so longed to hear them being sang by the divine beauty in front of him and once he had cried bitterly thinking just the same when he was cast aside. Now, he was the one being pined for his attention.

It was so ironic.

Thranduil read his mind easily and smiled a bit more. He extended an arm and motioned for the other to come closer and Rainion did, wanting to prioritize the refilling of tea but quite unable to do so.

"I suppose I am," Thranduil began speaking, his face falling into a gloom and his eyes sparkling with shame as he recalled the past events, at which Rainion's gaze remained unfavoured. "I have treated you with unfairness. It is only right for Eru to treat me thus."

Blue orbs danced as a vine of emotions rose up from his core and unfurled in his eyes. He gazed at the Silvan and despite utter sadness and remorse spreading all over them, a quiet glimmer of gratitude peeked out—which the other was not able to ignore of all a sudden.

"But He has been kind as well, you know." Thranduil spoke softly, his tone ringing sincerity and genuine gratitude. His lips curled revealing the ghost of a smile and he gently placed a hand on his small, round belly—his eyes warming when Rainion's gaze darted over to the area of a growing life. "He has granted a mercy in your form."

Rainion raised his brow but when he remembered just where he was, he quickly cast his face into a neutral mould and waited at what the prince had to say.

Thranduil noticed the reaction elicited from him and he looked down understandably for a moment before meeting the other's gaze, "Look at me. My father does not meet me in the eye. He fails to see happiness when he stares at my child. He sees betrayal. You never turned me away. You are the closest form of support I have at the moment and for that, I pray every day. I thank the Valar for the kindness I have been shown. For the kindness _you _have shown me even after I have..."

He paused and Rainion felt a twinge in his heart. It was so uncomfortable and it was so burdened that he found himself cursing at the blonde for wanting to have this conversation in the first place.

Thranduil breathed out and closed his eyes, leaning his head against the slant of his chair. Rainion made a face and was about to turn away when yet again, he was interrupted by Thranduil's voice.

"Yet you have stood by me. Taken care of me," His tone sounded sombre and whatever emotion he wanted to hide from his eyes were now drenching his voice.

Rainion bit his lips and brought himself to speak something— _anything_— that would make him any less uneasy.

"I am merely following the king's command, Your Highness." He replied ad his voice came out tough and unaffected, which was so uncharacteristic of him. Thranduil didn't seem to mind. He blinked open his eyes and once more held Rainion's gaze. His lips no more held that barest of smile he had before. Instead, his face reflected how serious he was and how he meant each and every thing that he spoke.

"Nevertheless," he responded gently, as if he suddenly understood exactly where he stood in Rainion's eyes and had accepted his stature, "Thank you."

And Rainion hated him.

Even after so much anger towards the prince, so many disdainful words he spoke of him in his mind, that creature still managed to throb his heart with a dull pain. Where Rainion should've felt cold, Thranduil's words still brought out sympathy. What he kept unseen, Thranduil still drew his attention back to it and no matter how enraged he was, seeing Thranduil so helpless and alone _still _twisted his heart with a forgotten emotion that Rainion buried deep within himself.

And for that he _hated _Thranduil.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> As you see, the chemistry between Rainion and Thranduil is getting a bit complex. It's that transition phase and I really *really* hope that it comes across as believable.


	2. Chapter 2

**To Sow a Barren Land**

**Disclaimer:** Let's be realistic for a second. Had I owned 'The Hobbit', Tauriel would definitely be a character in the books, Kíli would definitely fall in love with Legolas (who would also be in the books but not quite as his dad is the star), Thorin and Thranduil would totally have some hot chemistry going and Thranduil would be having his little Dwelf daughter or son!

**AN: ** Fast forwarding here a bit. ^^; Definitely some progress between Thranduil and Rainion and I'll be working with their developing bond from this point. Also, err...more mashing up of events. And chaos.

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

For days, they would play this delicate game. One would seek a chance to be looked at and the other would do anything in his power to look away. If Thranduil extended his arm, Rainion would draw back his own. If Thranduil tried hard to meet gazes, Rainion would look at anywhere but at the blond. If Thranduil's face twisted in sadness, Rainion's face would remain stoic. If Thrnaduil sought closure, Rainion would provide the most formal kind.

Rainion realized, their balance was on a precarious level dangling at the edge of a sword. If Thranduil slipped, he would fall. If Rainion slipped, he would never rise again.

He would not see the shy glances directed at him whenever he was busy pouring tea. He would ignore the bright blue pair of orbs shining expectantly at him, awaiting his response and the same blue eyes drooping when none would come. His ears would not register the soft voice calling out to him vulnerably and his heart would not burn and soothe at the same time when the same gentle voice would spread a cooling balm on his wounds.

As the pregnancy progressed, Thranduil's need to reach out increased as well. But each time he would do so, each time he would be leaving hanging on one end as Rainion curled further and further away.

It must've been painful for Thranduil, Rainion thought. He understood that what he was doing was unfair and that one day he'd have to answer to his ancestors about the way he treated someone who asked for his help. However, whenever he'd look at the sorrowful blue eyes, his mind would reel back to those days when the same orbs held nothing but lust and a distant gaze, lips moving and whispering the name of some other, the warm side of his bed and the way to the exit where porcelain long limbs would trudge quietly, leaving Rainion to be on his own.

It was then that his heart would tug with a feeling of simmering anger. He would cast aside the slight pull in his chest whenever that innocent face looked at him. He would hide away his feelings and he would shield himself away from the other's _sorcery. _

Still...

The trembling voice would quietly call for him. Shimmering eyes would be hopeful for forgiveness. Gentle hands would clasp around his own and would stop him from leaving Thranduil's side.

And Rainion would slip.

Thranduil shivered slightly, leaning against his balcony chair. His afternoon tea was long forgotten on the table in front of him. One hand was absently stroking his growing belly and the other was cradling it with a limpness which was only due to a strange lethargy. His eyes were glazed and blank, staring out into the distance, taking in the beauty he had been long devoid of.

A soft glow of orange was splashed across the sky, adorned by saffron clouds interlocking with each other in front of the setting sun. Streams of orange filtered through the clouds and as they fell upon the leaves and trees, they bordered them with a golden hue, evaporating gently into warm shades of red and brown.

As the sun rays became dimmer with the growing season, the forests too took on a darker contrast. It was the strangest of things. Thranduil hadn't been outside ever since his pregnancy began to show but he had seen many winters to notice the sudden tinge of darkness.

His thoughts soon changed course as memories of fresh air and star studded skied filled his mind. Oh how he wished to go outside! How he wished for a friend...

"Winter approaches," he said calmly, turning his head towards his right and frowning slightly when he was met with a light nod from the other before the Silvan turned his attention elsewhere.

"Are the pantries stocked?" Thranduil asked again and looked up at his caretaker eagerly, lowering his gaze a little when Rainion stared back at him with a forced distance and formality.

"They are well stocked, Your Highness," came the other's curt response before he busied himself with placing biscuits on the barely empty plate.

Thranduil nodded and kept looking in the other's direction. He was still hopeful that Rainion would indulge in his attempts to make conversation and in turn would actually allow himself to be something more than just a _guardian_. But his hopes were diminished when Rainion didn't so much as spare another glance at him.

Thranduil's face felt and there had been a tightness in his heart as he unwillingly turned and faced the patch of woods as seen from the balcony.

His eyes started stinging and he bit his lips, trying to contain the heaving in his breath as a powerful wave of poignancy rolled over him.

He missed the little glance Rainion provided him wearily before resuming his work.

"Will you never forgive me?" A rasped voice cut through the uncomfortable silence, drenching it with grief which was not effortlessly concealed as Thranduil's tone cracked at the end.

He faced the other as silent pleads fell from his eyes. He gasped with a shudder and gritted his teeth when finally Rainion loaned him his focus.

Warm brown eyes were still cold and were harshly spewing criticisms against the Sinda male but they suddenly softened as Rainion's throat made a gulping action and he opened his mouth, trying to form words.

"It is not my place to forgive you for something you have the right to do. _My prince,_" responded the other in a chuffed manner, hidden much by his formal training and sheer will to keep that formality in place.

But Thranduil saw through.

"By that, you simply mean I control you and therefore have freedom of doing anything _I _want, regardless of it being fair or unfair," Thranduil frowned and contradicted gently, a little appalled by the level of courtesy the other held for him. Or rather, that which he _had _to hold for him.

He noticed the small twitch on Rainion's face and decided to prod a little further, "By that, you mean I do whatever I want without any regard for others around me."

At that, Rainion's face flickered flashes of hurt before settling back to its original coldness and Thranduil found his eyes growing with pure shock. He gasped and frowned disdainfully, self-loathe overtaking him as a hiss came out of his lips, "If you mean it, why can't you say so upfront?"

In response, the other's brows furrowed in complaint and he parted his mouth to say something before he closed it and directed an almost neutral gaze which simply made Thranduil _fume_.

"Will you _never _talk?" A snarl covered his mouth and as he spoke, his eyes flared with rage born out of frustration, "Am I so unworthy to even yell at?"

He rose from his chair abruptly. The action made him to lose his balance a little and he caught sight of Rainion quickly rising from his own chair and darting across him to render his support but Thranduil raised his hand, making him to stop midway and look completely bewildered.

"You won't even look at me. I understand that. Whatever I did was horrible. And not a day goes by that I don't hate myself for it," Thranduil said in a tone which reflected the anger he mentioned, mingled with shame and disappointment. "You won't yell at me, you won't accuse me, you will do _nothing_!" His gaze hardened all of a sudden and he narrowed his eyes, wanting to pierce through the other's head, "_Why _will you do nothing? Why will you keep your calm and act as if you are unbothered? Tell me, _why_ do you not want to save me from my disgrace?"

He paused and kept on staring wildly at the other. His breaths were swollen and his chest was puffing up and down so much that it disturbed the tranquillity of the whole ambience.

Rainion was staring back with wide eyes. His jaws were parted and he was completely overtaken by surprise and shock and the suddenness of Thranduil's outburst did nothing to help him with words.

At last, Thranduil gave up. He groaned and walked over to the railing. He placed his arms across it and supported himself, all the while keeping his head low so that he could contain any more outbursts which threatened to make their way. Hs fists turned white from gripping the railing too hard and his back started undulating up and down as his breaths became harder and harder.

Suddenly, he raised his head a little when he thought he had heard the quietest of all sound. Ever so hesitantly, he loosened his grip on the railings and half-turned towards the Silvan's direction.

It was his turn to be shell-shocked when his ears caught the sound again.

Rainion was speaking in the faintest of tones.

"What did you say?" he asked, once more hope shimmering in his eyes which only increased as Rainion answered him yet again.

"I hated you. I wanted you to suffer," The Silvan looked apologetic immediately and tore his gaze away. But after a moment, when he again raised them, Thranduil's heart felt warm all of a sudden and the expectation he had in him grew even more as Rainion went on.

"But that is not why I avoid you," his tone was cold. In spite of that, Thranduil felt a tightness spreading all across his chest as he detected the uncancellable hurt reflected off from the other's voice.

"Then why do you do so?"

And within that tension, a warm fire was slowly building inside his hearth. Thranduil didn't know why but he felt relieved that he was acknowledged. That he was spoken to. That the only person—who was helping him so much—wasn't ignoring him anymore.

"Because," Rainion paused and took a deep breath. Maybe it was the hue of the sky or maybe it was he whose face was glowing red. Nevertheless, his voice was breathless and he lowered his eyes awkwardly before they were brought up with an honesty which gripped Thranduil's entire attention.

"Because if I let myself to love you again and if I get hurt once more, I will surely die."

With that, he looked away once more and scrunched up his face, as if he was mentally rebuking himself.

As for Thranduil, his jaws were on the verge of touching the floor and his mind felt light all of a sudden as thoughts rushed in and rammed against each other. His face and nape burned with a stinging sensation and his cheeks felt so much heat that they matched the shade of vibrant red seen upon autumn leaves. His lips wagged and his words snuck back inside his throat. His mind went entirely blank as bewilderment and stun stirred inside his heart.

Rainion now fully faced Thranduil. He was hesitant still, yet there was a streak of confidence and ample of genuineness coming off from his eyes.

"But my own self betrays me." He spoke quietly and Thranduil never before felt a flutter in his chest amidst all the surprise and confusion he was feeling at the moment. "I can never bring myself to stop loving you. Even if I don't receive your love in return."

For a great while, Thranduil was unable to say anything. His eyes were broadened and his cheeks were glowing crimson.

He was confused and shameful and guilty of toying with the other elf's feelings. Yet, he wanted him nearby. He wanted Rainion's notice. He wanted the elf's forgiveness and he wanted him as a company. And even if he didn't admit it to himself, there was always a part of him which screamed at the top of its lungs— he wanted Rainion as a _friend_.

His brain was muddled and his heart was beating loudly as a result of such rush of new emotions. But beyond such chaos, the fire that was smouldering inside his heath brunt brighter and brighter and as its flames touched Thranduil's core, he felt a warm sensation radiating throughout his body and somehow, it didn't feel wrong. It didn't speak of danger.

If anything, it brought a quiet little smile on his lips.

* * *

><p>The court was humming with shrill whispers as the dwarven advisors argued amongst themselves. Each of their faces had been strewn with panic and not a single dwarf stood in composure as they began feeling the heat of the growing threat.<p>

"Silence!"

Suddenly, the whole court lulled into quietness as the voice of their king boomed within the vast hall.

"How far has the feud proceeded over the weeks?" Thrór asked in a steel cold tone. Even if he was not showing it, his insides were becoming frigid with fear as the battle of the races became stronger.

"It has taken a worse turn, Your Majesty." One of the advisors spoke, his eyes laced with unspoken terror. "The Noldors united with the Doriath elves and have rode through every village of the Blue Mountains. It will be a matter of time when they reach us. Though, their search has grown slower with time."

The dwarf wasn't done. He went on and as he did, Thrór only prayed to the Almighty for the chaos that had reigned was something beyond the king's wildest nightmares.

"It is not a matter of rights anymore. It is a matter of kin. They will not rest till they destroy the offenders. We can only hope for their trail to grow cold."

"Has the Woodelves taken part yet?" Asked one concerned voice.

"No. Their king follows an isolationist doctrine," Thrór provided thoughtfully, his heart leaping uneasily as he remembered the might of Oropher and how easily he could turn against them. He only _hoped _for the Woodland king to maintain his doctrine.

"But Your Majesty," His attention was caught again by the other dwarf and just by the way he hesitated, Thrór knew that they were already in the deepest of pits.

"That is not all. A dark power is felt all around. The Istaris feel it and they speak of an ominous foe that grows stronger day by day. Rumour has it that..."

He paused and he seemed absolutely frightened.

Thrór felt his mouth growing dry and a cold chill was taking hold of his chest. He nodded, indicating the other to go on, which he did after swallowing thickly, "Rumour has it, apart from the great rings forged, there is another ring which holds immense power. Whoever it is, wields it and it grows in its hunger for evil as days pass."

Thrór stayed quiet for a long time. He felt all eyes staring at him with immense expectation. They believed their king to protect them and to provide solutions to their entire problem. However, this time, Thrór saw no way out.

He knew that the relation between elves and dwarves would never be the same. He understood that the elves were the least of his problem at the moment...but it was also true that to fight against the dark powers, he would require every dwarf to stand together. And though it was possible in light of this racial feud, Thrór realized very well that Erebor would be all alone if the others caught the air of them arranging the whole charade. And the necklace would catch wind soon enough.

"Then we hide the jewellery and we wait," he ordered grimly. "The elves' energy has definitely lessened from the start. With time, they will grow tired and will give up their search. They will not forget. But they will grow cold as the necklace becomes no more than a lore. Also, they have more things to worry about. Like the growing darkness. If we have felt it, they must have as well. Because of that, the elves will soon prioritize over their protection than of some necklace. The dark powers are the main matter of concern."

Things were escalating quickly out of hands. He had lost a valuable and powerful ally. He would not be above suspicion from the other race and if their secret got out, their own kin would retract their helping hands. This time, Thrór was extremely worried. He was afraid.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> Just one question—is it getting a bit complicated, you think? O.o


	3. Chapter 3

**To Sow a Barren Land**

**Disclaimer:** Nope, not mine.

**AN: ** Definitely fluff here. :D Thank you all for your support. I really appreciate it.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

Thorin stood on the balcony, overlooking the steep descent of the slope where bare rocks eventually wrapped along with green vegetation. His mind was uneasy and his heart unsettled.

The situation had gotten worse. Yes, the elves' search grew colder and colder as no traces of the jewel or whereabouts of the offenders could be found. Yes, they were safe and well above suspicion on account of their misgiving with Mirkwood. Still, nothing could be hidden forever and Thorin knew perfectly well that more one tried to cover up his tracks, more obvious he'd become.

Then there was the growing concern of dark powers and that rumoured mysterious ring. A rumour so far but a strong one nonetheless.

Then, the void he felt...

He sighed and let out the disturbance he had been pending up within him. Time had stretched since he had last lain eyes of his 'One'. He missed him so terribly. They had a chance of getting together...

He gripped the railing hard when fragments of that day's events flashed in his minds. They _could_, if only Thranduil hadn't betrayed him thus.

He hung his head and waited for the anger to pass. Suddenly, the smell of chamomile and juniper filled his nostrils and he jerked up and turned around, grimacing a little when he found he was not alone.

It was a lady. An aristocrat by the looks of her. She ignored Thorin's unwelcomed expression and gently glided beside the dwarf prince, peering out the balcony as the cool breeze waved her honey-blonde curls.

"You must really be troubled," she said in a sweet voice, which faltered Thorin's grimace. "And it is not for the matter of the state."

"And how can you come to such conclusions?" Thorin asked, facing away from the lady and down onto the slopes.

The lady smiled and replied, "You are not attending court where they argue their points."

"Maybe I am fed up of ridiculous arguments," Thorin retorted back.

"When danger looms? Unlikely for the _prince_."

"An audacious assumption," Thorin raised a brow, referring to both his title and the happenings of court.

The woman guessed what he was thinking and decided to clear his confusion up, "I do attend court, you know. I am not ignorant of the events _or_ the personalities."

Thorin rolled his eyes and said, not tearing away from the scenery, "Then you'd not be ignorant to perceive how cumbersome they become and how one desperately needs to clear his head."

"Or his heart," she at which Thorin jerked his head and faced the other.

He felt a jilt of spark in his heart as he knew what was said was possibly right. Still, he didn't give away his thoughts and instead, frowned at the other, "Again, an audacious assumption."

The woman slowly turned towards him and for a while, regarded him. Her gaze became soft and somewhat sullen as a warm smile spread across her lips. At that, Thorin drew in his breath and even though he tried matching her gaze level by level, he found his strength melting away and he began feeling weak all of a sudden. Weak and _exposed_.

He gave in at last and let his eyes drop to the ground and then to the scenery as he drew in a deep breath.

Surprisingly, the woman didn't rub it in his face. Instead, she resorted to stay by his side and remained still—as if giving him his own little space to feel whatever he was feeling.

"I can't pretend to understand your pain," she finally said, drawing Thorin's focus upon her. "It must be hurting a lot to let go of the one you love. Why else would you be so withdrawn?"

As she spoke, Thorin felt agreeing with her more and more and somehow, he felt relieved that someone else was able to read him...especially when he needed to be read the most.

"And surely none can compete with the one who holds your heart." She paused, now turning to face Thorin with a calmness surrounding her, "But surely one can hope to provide you with support and friendship while you try and heal your pain."

"And is it you?" Thorin asked trying to be condescending but failing miserably at it as his voice cradled hope.

The woman smiled and nodded, "If you let me."

At that moment, Thorin felt lighter. He wasn't relieved of the pain he felt, surely, but the pain now seemed to have a soothing balm lapped over it in the form of her words.

The woman smiled and took her leave. When she was a few steps ahead, Thorin called out to her and she turned.

"And will I not be allowed to know who my friend is?"

Her smile grew and her eyes basked in softness as she replied, "Esja."

Thorin was left with wonder and embarrassment as her face was completely forgotten by him. He felt his cheeks heating up when he realized he had been purposefully avoiding this woman after two or three meetings. The woman who was her _fiancé. _The woman who was willing to be his friend.

Then she walked away. Thorin stood behind, feeling a glimmer of hope after many days of torment.

* * *

><p>"I'd like to go outside." Thranduil declared, sitting up from his bed with a cringe. He faced Rainion and stared insistently. The other elf visibly sighed and shook his head as he walked over to the blonde, clearly administering his descent.<p>

Thranduil frowned and cleared his throat, making Rainion pause in his stride which he resumed soon after.

"I want to go outside. _Now,_" he stressed, scrunching up his face when the other swooped behind him and fluffed up his pillows. "You hear me perfectly well, Rainion. I need not require to mind you how atrocious it is for you to ignore me."

"The atrocity hasn't slipped my mind, Your Highness. You need not remind me of it," Rainion responded lightly, facing Thranduil, a small chuckle bordering his lips.

Thranduil saw it and scrunched up his face even more. Having seen that, Rainion's smile widened and he stood up straight and said, a hint of mirth behind his now more amiable voice, "But your father, the King, has strictly ordered me to keep you out of trouble. I do not intend to be atrocious towards _him_."

Thranduil bristled at that, his pride and haughtiness returning to him as much as the colour on his cheeks with his developing pregnancy. His eyes flared when he was talked down to and he shot the other a dangerous look. Rainion tilted his head almost rolling his eyes, before he raised both his brows to give a condescending look, at which Thranduil's eyes flashed even more with arrogance.

"My father runs the kingdom from his throne room and barely sets foot in my chambers and therefore, barely has direct contact with you." He responded in the same manner as he would to the non co-operating delegates. "Most of your time is spent here under my employ and as your employer and the rightful heir of Greenwood, I _demand_ to be taken outside."

He heard a snort. Thranduil's expression turned from arrogance to pure bewilderment and embarrassment when instead of reverence, all Rainion did was throw his head back and let out a hearty laugh.

For a few moments, Thranduil struggled with how to school his features. Finally, when the bewilderment was too much, he gave up and almost childishly stated, "I do not believe I made a _joke._"

Rainion's laughter increased and he hunched forward, grasping his sides as his face gradually grew red.

Thranduil's face also reddened—not only because of anger but also because the unexpected amusement made at his expense.

"Stop laughing!" He jostled but Rainion was nowhere near following his command. As laughter tore through the Silvan and brightly echoed throughout the room, Thranduil took a deep breath, reached out behind his back and grabbed a pillow.

"I said stop _laughing_."

He threw the pillow towards Rainion, who stopped immediately as it hit him and stared at his prince with surprised eyes. Not expecting to get such a serious reaction from the other, Thranduil too was staring back with plenty of awkwardness.

"I apologize," he started, taking his eyes off the other. "My action was rude and impr—"

He was stopped when the same pillow hit his face and plopped down on his grown belly. Thranduil gasped and looked disdainfully at the Silvan who raised his hands in the air and shrugged, not at all taking Thranduil seriously.

Thranduil turned his head halfway in the opposite direction, eyes remaining fixed on the brown haired elf, which held a look that promised Rainion eons of hardship. Rainion's face froze and very slowly, his feet twitched and were just about to take steps back when he was hit right at his nose by another pillow.

A smirk crossed Thranduil's lips as the other let out an unceremonious grunt and looked with disapproval back at him as his mouth hung ajar.

Thranduil gave off a cheeky smirk, his lush eyebrows raised to challenge the other from repeating that again. They were raised even higher, wanting to cross the limit of his forehead as did his eyes and he ducked to his right as the pillow whooshed past him.

A chuckled escaped his lips and it was caught by Rainion as a light of playfulness twinkled in his eyes. Weeks had passed and he and Thranduil began to feel more comfortable around each other and more _frank_. Some would say they even margined along the term 'friend'. _They'd_ say, they crossed the margin and became_ good _friends.

At least on Thranduil's part. As for Rainion—ever since he had declared of his feelings, he felt lighter and happier. The burden of avoidance which weighed him down was gone. Even if Thranduil didn't reciprocate, he certainly didn't turn him away. Instead, they both reached out for each other and grew to liking each other's company.

After a few rounds, Thranduil's face became sombre and upon noticing, Rainion lowered the pillow and walked over to the other.

"I wish you could step outside too," he said gently, at which Thranduil slowly brought his gaze up and settled it on the other's sympathetic face. "But you know what is at stake."

"My dignity," Thranduil scoffed and leaned against the soft pillows. He brought his hand up and absently stroke his now much prominent stomach where his child was growing healthily with the Valar's grace. "Or rather the _king's _dignity."

Rainion stooped down and barely touched the end of the bed. Thranduil scooted over, making room for him after which, Rainion sat and regarded the other with utmost sincerity.

"That is not true," he spoke trying to reassure Thranduil which he already knew wasn't the actual fact. Rainion understood that he had been caught and he blinked a few times before sighing, "Well that is not _entirely _true. The king fears for your safety."

"My safety will not be ensured by _keeping_ me in here!" Thranduil retorted back but checked himself quickly as Rainion's face resonated nothing but calmness.

"My prince—"

"_Thranduil_. I asked you not to use my title."

"_Thranduil,_" Rainion exhales quietly, "You have not been outside too long. You do not know what has come to pass. The woods...they are not the same anymore. They are not as vibrant as they used to be."

"Then perhaps I _must _see it for myself!" Thranduil reasoned but held back a frustrating sigh when Rainion shook his head.

"They do not speak of it much before me. But it is not the lull of winter. It feels...different_._ It feels _wrong._"

"All the more reason for me to see what goes on in my realm!" His interest perked, Thranduil sat up and ignoring the groan escaping from Rainion's throat, he locked his eyes with the other at which Rainion immediately became serious.

"I haven't set foot out of this wing for weeks now. I _suffocate,_ Rainion. I must see the trees and the stars. Else I shall go mad from this blasted confinement." His tone was edged with pent up frustration but it quickly became polished with the power of authority Thranduil was responsible for. "And I must see what danger lurks. If any."

His eyes shone with determination and burned with a passion which would not be doused by any form of discouragement. Rainion became silent and he too stared back at the other. His own features moulded into the same infectious sincerity. Thranduil's gaze remained unwavered. It was clear that he had no intention of budging.

After a few more moments, Rainion finally sighed in defeat and stood up. As Thranduil was helped to his feet by a pair of strong arms, he couldn't help but smile in excitement.

The rumours were true. The trees indeed lost their shade of green and even as they endorsed the chillness of early winter, there was a tinge of grey covering the forest. Thranduil quickly recalled all those days ago when he had noticed a similar thing from the balcony. He had chalked it up to his imagination after a while of thinking but now, he was not as sure.

But his relief outweighed his concern for the time being. The forest was _gorgeous_. The sun had set a while ago and the sky was draped with beautiful fabrics of evening blue. The moon was yet to come out and already, a few number of stars decorated the clear sky.

Thranduil paused in his walk and took a deep breath. His lungs were filled by the much needed fresh air. The scent of pines, spruce and wild flowers infiltrated his nostrils and heightened each of his senses as they came down on him like a cool, soothing shower washing away his frustration. The slightly cold air hit his face and freshened him up from weariness. His silken manes of gold danced and swayed in the light evening breeze. It was so blissful.

He felt a gentle touch on his left shoulder and with a long exhale, he turned towards the other side. Rainion's face came into view and it was so gentle and tranquil that Thranduil felt inexplicably drawn towards it.

"It is growing late," he said, guiding Thranduil towards the palace, "We must head back inside."

Thranduil shook his head and smiled with all of his innocence. "Let us sit here for a while longer. Please Rainion. It has been so long. I want to cherish the free forest for a bit more."

He bit his lips and awaited the other's consent. When Rainion nodded, his smile brightened up and he led the other to one of the trees which had a nice girth and an umbrella like cover of leaves.

He held his lower belly and with the support of the trunk to his side and Rainion from behind, Thranduil lowered himself on the forest floor, extending his hand up for the other elf to come and join him. The Silvan smiled and took a seat beside Thranduil and both sat in a comfortable silence, enjoying the essence of the woods.

"I used to come here as a child," Rainion said, lost in reminiscence. A light smile ghosted his lips and his tone was so soft and quiet that it reached Thranduil's heart and breezed through it. "It was my own little corner where I could sit and relax. I would talk to the trees and would tell them how I loathed weapons' training."

Thranduil's eyes sparkled with a calm joy as he listened to the other. Unbeknownst to him, his own lips curled to a smile and all of his attention was drawn solely on the elf beside him.

"I hated how they destroyed. I promised the trees that I would never take up weapons, unless I had no other choice. Which is why I devoted my energy to more scholarly streams. Something that wouldn't involve _forged_ _metal._" He paused and faced the other as he said with a wry smile, "You must think I am a coward."

"Not at all," responded Thranduil. His starry eyes were gleaming with an indescribable light as his insides felt fluttery and warm. He felt infected by the gentility that came from Rainion. The more the elf talked, more Thranduil found himself drowning in the care with which each word was spoken. He found unable to look away.

"You are not a coward." His own tone was breezy and the flutter in his chest all but increased as he felt his face tighten with a rush of feelings.

"I hate weapons," Rainion countered. His eyes were warm and were swimming with emotions that Thranduil was no longer able to ignore.

He breathed in and lowered his eyes, looking at his lap as a dull and pleasurable throb settled in his core.

"You protect," his words came as murmurs and his voice was drowned by the heat rising up from his heart to his throat, face and ears.

Rainion's breath sounded hitched and Thranduil's fingers twitched as his gaze fell on to the hand resting beside his own. Very slowly, he raised his eyes, which were full of content and shining with joy as they danced between the warm orbs of the other.

His breath came out smooth and heaved. His chest rose and fell heavily but with a gentle transition. Thranduil's cheeks warmed and his eyes gleamed ever brighter like the stars above as he found Rainion's eyes holding him with adoration.

The wet sound of his lips parting distracted no one. The dull throb in his chest gradually turned to rapid beats of his heart as multitudes of emotions flooded him.

Thranduil brought his hands up slowly and ghosted them beside Rainion's face. Slender fingers moved a little, contemplating if they should go forward with what they intended to do.

Rainion's hands were too brought up and with much deliberation of their own, settled onThranduil's biceps before quickly fluttering away like a butterfly and settling again with their own pace.

Thranduil exhaled gently, lips mouth parting just a little more, revealing his pearly teeth and glossy inner lips. Gradually he brought his palms closer and lightly touched Rainion's smooth face.

They caressed his cheeks with their soft tips and at the delicate touch, Rainion's eyes fluttered and drooped down, settling on the soft pink flesh, gleaming like the morning dew.

Eventually, the tips of his fingers pressed against the other's skin, followed by their length and then the soft flesh of his palms as Thranduil cradled Rainion's cheeks.

He heard the other let out a shuddered sigh and the cool air hitting his own face, he brought it closer and closer, touching the tips of their noses together and brushing the other's lips with his own, keeping the agonizing inch between them as he felt Rainion's mouth moving by a miniscule amount in a kissing manner.

Rainion's lips skirted near his cheeks and stroke the corner of Thranduil's mouth before he retraced them along the borders of his upper lip, touching it nimbly as their noses caressed again.

Thranduil arms slowly encircled the back of Rainion's head, grazing against his hair before coming down along his nape and settling there, stroking it gently. As the Silvan's sweet breath hit against his skin, Thranduil's eyes fluttered shut and he gasped calmly when the palms on the his arms stroke lavishly across them, reaching down his back and wrapping them around his waist as he was pulled closer.

Thranduil's breath came out in shudders as the warmth in his heart increased in intensity. He sensed lips ghosting _very _near to his own, and as it caressed and teased his lips and face, Thranduil felt a beautiful chill descending down his spine and climbing back up again.

His lips were claimed—lightly at first, as the other carefully pressed his lips against Thranduil's soft pair, kissing each one alternating with a steady manner. As a response, Thranduil inhaled deeply and moved his lips against Rainion's—matching pace by pace, rhythm by rhythm—as if they were one orchestra, harmonized by an unseen master.

Thranduil brought one of his palms in front, never losing the touch and settled it on Rainion's chest, stroking it up and down in a very slow pace. He arched his back and leaned closer when his sides were caressed with just as much delicateness.

With time, their kiss deepened. Rainion sucked on Thranduil's lips, tasting the sweet nectar coating them and Thranduil tipped his head, parting his lips even more, inviting the other in. He quivered with pleasure as the insides of his mouth were brushed by the tip of Rainion's cool tongue, making him moan in the kiss and gasp slightly.

As he opened his mouth further, he felt Rainion's tongue lapping against his own, touching tips and caressing them before sweeping the walls of his mouth. Thranduil let the other take hold of him and moved his tongue and lips complimentary to Rainion's subtly demanding manner.

His mind was by that point devoid of any thoughts. It was overwhelmed in its attempt to understand each and every sensation which exploded in his head, eventually giving up and letting the emotions rush through as Thranduil was swept by the wave of them.

He felt warm all over and it was the same kind of feeling he once held once he was touched before, kissed before and_ loved _before. His limbs felt so weak all of a sudden and he wanted nothing more than to melt in the other's arms.

When their lungs burnt of air, they broke, gradually trailing kisses as they lessened the closeness between them. They were at arms' length from each other and yet the touch lingered on their bodies, as did their wonderful taste.

They didn't speak.

Thranduil's eyes were huge and they were shining with feelings he had long been denied. They held a new revelation as he admired the being in front of him.

Rainion's gaze was filled with admiration and the love he had forced inside of him. His brown orbs were twinkling with joy and a divinity as he took in the creature he worshipped _then _and had never _stopped _worshipping.

Suddenly, Thranduil's cheeks burned and he looked down to the ground. His eyes flickered to and fro as if he was studying the forest floor intently and the shade of crimson on his cheeks grew darker, spreading quickly to the rest of his face and neck.

Rainion himself was faring no better. Once he was snapped out of his enchantment, he felt panic rising in him and desperately searched his mind for any appropriate excuse he might have.

Had Thranduil noticed, he would surely laugh at the disoriented state of the other elf. However, he himself was too flabbergasted to think of anything else.

The rush of emotions he felt dimmed momentarily before crashing against him yet again like a powerful tidal wave.

Hesitantly, he gulped and looked up at the other. His cheeks burned all the more when he found Rainion staring right at him.

The poor elf looked miserable— as if he had committed a great sin—before he quickly drew his arms away and rested them awkwardly against his sides, bringing them to his chest and crossing one over the other.

It was then that Thranduil noticed where his own arms been. He darted his eyes on Rainion's nape and back on the other's face.

Instead of drawing away, he curled his fingers and laced them tightly against each other, not missing the look of surprise on Rainion's face before he lowered his gaze.

The Silvan opened his mouth and he let out a gasp as his eyes revealed the pure shock of Thranduil's actions. His cheeks were glowing red—much like Thranduil himself—and he began breathing heavily as if his chest was constricted by the tightest of all ropes.

Biting his lips, Thranduil let his faltered eyes be brought up again and as he let them fall on Rainion's face, they shimmered with mirth and shyness.

It was so unexpected and so unthought-of. He pined for Rainion as a company. He sought out his forgiveness and extended his hand to a much needed friend.

His face grew even hotter and his heart was rampaged by a warm flood which he never thought he would feel again.

And when his lips cracked with a slowly developing smile, and when Rainion smiled back, Thranduil just _knew _how his friend came to mean much more.

So much more.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> The drama is not gone. But this is a new chapter for every one of them. Hm, yeah. It's not Thorinduil...but...it would be kinda unrealistic at this point, right? Please review and tell me what you think so far~


	4. Chapter 4

**To Sow a Barren Land**

**Disclaimer:** Only in my dreams...

**AN: ** So now we dive into the other half of the story. I intend to wrap it up before it gets more complicated.

Thanks a bunch to those who've supported this fic. :)

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4<strong>

_Respected King of the Woodland Realms,_

_It has come to our attention that the Blue Mountains bear dwarves of most despicable nature but despicability is all that they bear. The very conceited nature of dwarves is such that they will do anything to snatch that which is and never was rightfully theirs. Such is their folly that they prefer to continue with the racial bigotry instead of simply handing over the heirloom of the great Elu Thingol. _

_As you are completely aware, the riots have taken a sharp turn. The relation between elves and dwarves no longer rest on will— be it good or bad. It hangs dangerously by a thread. It is not about the necklace anymore. It is about the matter of kin, the matter of race and the matter of racial pride. The feuds have grown colder only physically. Though, I should say that seeing how it has escalated, one can easily be feigned into thinking that it is as active as it had been months prior—when it all began. Distrust lingers and there is also the fear of life. And it is that fear which snags the thread. With time, all will collapse and two races will be abolished by the fire that will never douse._

_However, such is not the reason why I write to you, King Oropher. I write because another great danger looms over us. Not only on dwarves, men or elves; not only on Sinda, Noldo or Avari but on each and every realm that prospers in Arda. _

_There lies a dark power which grows stronger by the day. The darkness not only affects us but also those around us. The trees grow ill, the wildlife grows unsteady, and the upsurge of so many orcs is an entirely new development. Word is around— of which, I believe without a doubt, you possess great knowledge—that in spite of the known ring of powers, another ring is forged. They call it the One Ring. They whisper and dare not investigate its actual existence but rumours also speak of this ring bringing all kinds of evil and __desiring__ evil from whoever wields it. The master of this ring must be identified. The ring __must__ be found and it must be __destroyed__._

_In light of recent events, the investigation of the necklace has been made of a lesser priority. It is still ongoing but I have summoned the majority of my soldiers back under my keep and have started gathering further knowledge of this sorcerer and the ring they speak so fearfully. _

_While I respect your judgement, King Oropher, on your doctrine I must request you to set aside the differences our respective kins have been pursuing. It is inevitable of the evil threatening Arda and it is inevitable to face a war which breathes down upon us. I ask you to join me in the war and I hope you will impart your wisdom and your strength in the fight against evil. I know you will deliberate carefully—as you have always done—and will come to the right conclusion._

_Sincerely,_

_Erenion Gil-galad_

Oropher stared back at the letter with still eyes. He sat, without shifting or without any form of movement which the king would normally portray if he was under stress. A cold chill settled in his heart. His mind was churning with many thoughts, pertaining to politics and mostly how it would affect _his _kingdom.

He reached out for a piece of parchment and dabbed his quill in the bottle of ink. He bought it on to the parchment and kept it hovering before he sighed and placed the quill back inside the bottle.

He knew very well what Gil-galad had been speaking of. His own sources too mentioned of a greater and powerful surge of power coming from Mount Doom. His forest was blackened with sickness of purity and none was spared from the ill-boding feeling that arose from Dol Guldur.

He joined his hands together and rested his chin upon it. All of a sudden, he wished for Thranduil's counsel. It was such a great matter that he wanted as many refined opinions as possible.

A groan escaped his throat as he rubbed hard circles on his cheeks, quickly discarding the idea. Their relation had become a little uncomfortable over the months. He had hoped he could see past the sire of his grandchild but he simply couldn't overlook the blood on the dwarves' hands and the betrayal Thranduil had unwittingly and unknowingly caused. It wasn't his fault but Oropher couldn't face him yet.

His hands travelled upwards, past his forehead and tensed fingers tangled with the long golden locks. He set his eyes on the NoldN

Noldo High-king's letter and glanced blankly at it.

There was also the fact that Thranduil was heavily pregnant. Five more months and he would be due for the birth. The healers already told him how delicate Thranduil's state was and how the slightest of anxieties could threaten the life of the child and well as its father. And if this child was lost, then there was no guarantee of Thranduil conceiving another one. His son would not be grieved. He would _fade_.

His sigh escaped in trembles as he rubbed his eyes. He was in complete dilemma, stemming right from the pit of his stomach. He had his people to worry about and if Mirkwood engaged in war, then there would be no way out of the evil one's attention. And if Mirkwood _didn't_, it would not be spared also. Dol Guldur was but a throw of a stone away. Mirkwood would be affected first. Then there was the request of the High-king himself...Sinda and Noldo conflict aside, their strength would dwindle if the Noldo found out that their king's call was rejected. Mirkwood would obtain no help at all should they require it.

The uneasiness in his heart grew and Oropher's eyes became more focused. He reached for the quill again and started scribbling down a response.

He hoped he had made the right choice.

* * *

><p>Thrór paced back and forth in his chambers. His arms were crossed behind his back and his strides were so frantic and fast paced that only increased his tension. His sleep was ruined and his appetite was lost. His jolliness was long gone and instead, a weary shadow fell upon his face which received many inquisitive glances but no queries.<p>

He looked up at the sound of a polite knock on his doors. Stopping in his pace, he sighed and ordered, "Enter."

He let out another breath when in came Thorin.

"You asked to see me?" The young prince asked. His face was laden with concern and prediction of the turn their conversation would eventually take.

Thrór nodded and gestured the other to come and take a seat. Thorin did so, his eyes never really leaving the form of his grandfather and stiffly accepted the drink he had been offered.

Taking a sip of his own drink, Thrór came to stand in front of the other and exchanged intense glances. Thorin quirked his brow, wanting the king to vocalize whatever that was bothering him at which, Thrór's frown appeared and deepened in a matter of seconds.

It took him two more gulps of his drink before the king finally spoke, "They will find out it was us. They have withdrawn from the Blue Mountains."

He clenched his jaws as Thorin's expressions grew darker. The younger dwarf held the drink in his hand, forgetting all about it, as he stared with hints of fear.

"It'd be futile to hide it," he provided unhelpfully, eliciting a strained sigh from the other. Subconsciously, the grip on his glass became harder and he said in a tone which was becoming grimmer by the second, "What do you intend to do?"

"Act like it doesn't concern us," Thrór responded fast, his eyes darting over to the non-tasted drink in Thorin's hand. Bringing his gaze on to the other, he locked his eyes and went on, "The elves have retracted their search by a miniscule amount and are redirecting their energy to find this sorcerer and the ring. It bears ill-will and will threaten Arda as days go by."

As each word was spoken, Thorin's eyes grew bigger just as Thrór's own pair shrank as a grave sense of fear and ominous foresight took over them.

"You suggest we lend help?" It wasn't a question which Thorin had in his tone. It was doubt for his gaze faltered with uncertainty, uneasily glancing to anywhere but Thrór's face.

Thrór finished his drink and took the glass from Thorin's hand. The dwarf prince let out a mild gasp and brought his bewildered eyes to settle on the other as he took giant gulps from the glass.

Finishing the alcohol, Thrór set the glass down heavily against a nearby table and for a while stood silently in front of the younger dwarf. He felt the anxiety rising within Thorin and the pair of eyes staring at him was burning with curiosity and anticipation as he awaited Thrór's suggestion.

At last, the king blinked and took a deep breath. When the coldness in his chest melted away from the burning itch of alcohol, he gave a reply.

"We will not respond to the call of the war," he said, his voice becoming frigid with a grave sentiment as Thorin's brows started frowning with confusion.

Thrór noticed the change in the other's expressions and continued, without giving Thorin a chance to voice his thoughts, "For there _will_ be a war and though it is extremely unlikely for them to call upon our aid, still we shall not participate."

"What if the danger looms over _us_?" Thorin finally reasoned, dilemma twisting his face, "What then? Will the co-operation from dwarves be enough?"

"It must!" Thrór's voice became sharper as he hissed like an animal, desperate to keep his life. Thorin's eyes widened at the sudden unexpected reaction before they shrank under the weight of a deep frown. Thrór sighed and eased his breaths, trying to keep his temper in check. When he was confident enough, he elaborated, "And since the search of the necklace will no longer be the main issue, it gives us a window of opportunity to keep things united with our race while we keep it well hidden."

Thorin nodded in understanding and stared ahead at the other's feet with a far-away look.

"You must wed soon."

The dwarf prince's head was jerked up as he looked at his grandfather with defiant eyes. Thrór remained unfazed. He had his reasons and Thorin would be able to see them by now. In the strict manner of a politician, he said, "For if we are to be caught in a battle, then you and I will participate. Erebor will require an heir."

Thorin remained quiet for a great while. His eyes were steadily viewing the king's face and even though his expression was devoid of any other emotion, Thrór understood the level of internal debate his grandson was facing.

"You shall be wedded later this month. It is in haste but it can be done. Half the arrangements are already made," he said, his eyes softening very little with sympathy before they were clouded again by regal thoughts. "If this _Necromancer,_ as they call him, strikes he will hopefully start with the realm closest to him. And if what sources say is correct, then we were right to cut off ties with the Woodland Realm."

At the mention of Greenwood, Thorin's eyes flickered with an intensity belying every emotion of worry, fear and passion before they slowly dimmed with the direness of their own situation and became completely cold and neutral.

"Very well, grandfather." The dwarf prince finally consented as he rose up from his chair. "Your wish shall be fulfilled."

Thrór's eyes wrinkled a little as he smiled in the smallest of reliefs. He pardoned the other and watched Thorin's retreating back, feeling a slight shift of weight in his chest. He held pride in his eyes—pride for his grandson whom he had expected to rouse up disagreements when it came to his marriage. Thranduil would always be a soft corner for Thorin, he realized but as a grandfather, Thrór was glad that the prince was beginning to consider his kingdom over the trouble-bringing elf.

And as a king, he was relieved to keep his people safe.

* * *

><p>A gasp escaped Thranduil's lips as he hunched forward, holding his stomach with both hands. Rainion looked up from the book he was reading and attempted to stand up from his spot beside Thranduil but when the elven prince showed no sign of anything serious, he gingerly sat back on the chair beside Thranduil's bed, keeping a close eye on him.<p>

Thranduil frowned lightly, waiting for something to happen before his forehead smoothened and he lay back against the pillows. He lifted up an arm and settled it beside him, while another gently caressed the child growing inside. His eyes darted over to the other and when he noticed Rainion observing him, he smiled and reassured, "It was just a flutter."

Rainion stared at him disbelievingly and shook his head. "You don't react the way you did if it was _only_ a flutter."

"I wouldn't react otherwise for something as_ unexpected _as a flutter," Thranduil replied, giving the other a pompous look. He knit his brows together and squeezed his eyes shut as he cradled his stomach frantically.

Panic filled Rainion's chest as he quickly kicked back the chair and stood with much haste, leaning over the other.

"What is the matter?" He asked, gently leaning Thranduil back. His heart beat wildly as Thranduil let out a groan and bit his lips, refusing to lie back.

"I shall get the healer," his tone was full of dread as he quickly drew away and faced the door. His eyes grew wide in shock when his hand was gripped by another, pulling him down and stopping him.

As Rainion looked back, he couldn't help but conceal his surprise when he saw Thranduil looking at him hard while he tried to contain himself by regulating his breaths.

"Why _not_?" He almost yelled, heading towards the door anyway but gasped out loudly when Thranduil's strong hand pulled him towards the bed.

The elf breathed heavily and eventually his expressions relaxed as did his breathing. After a few moments, his eyes cleared up and he lay back against his pillows, sighing deeply when the pain was gone.

Rainion's heart still beat wildly. He dropped on his chair and tried to say something. However, his logic failed him and he simply stared with confusion at the other, unmindful of his hand still being gripped.

"What was that?" He asked quietly, at which Thranduil's temple furrowed just a little as he exchanged glances with the other.

Rainion was growing impatient. He was still terrified of what he had witnessed and pushed on, "You will tell me or I _will _bring the healer."

Thranduil's eyelids dropped just a little and he released Rainion's hand from his clasp, settling it on his stomach as he felt the life within it. He sighed and looking up, he spoke gently, "I have seen the healer. She says it is stress."

"It has happened before and you didn't _tell_ me? Why _are _you stressed?" Rainion scowled, angry at the irresponsibility Thranduil displayed.

"Why would I _not_ be?" Thranduil countered with irritation in his tone. "I have heard what goes around here. I am aware of what our home is now called. They call it _Mirkwood_!_"_

Rainion pursed his lips, as if he was beginning to say words which shrunk back inside his throat. After a few trials, when Thranduil's eyes full of anger born out of concern caught his attention, he sighed and gave in.

"I'm sure it is nothing for you to bother about," Rainion responded, though he came off to be weaker than he intended.

Thranduil bristled and shook off Rainion's excuses.

"Do I give off the impression of being naïve or is it your general assumption that I bear intelligence far lesser than an infant?"

The Silvan stayed silent. He knew better than to interrupt Thranduil when he was this angry. Instead, he let the other speak and decided only to voice his thoughts when the other had calmed down.

"Look at the woods!" Thranduil scowled, sitting up straight as he narrowed his eyes, "Do you not _see _the darkness or do you mean to tell me I am the only one who feels a strange vibe?"

The elven prince narrowed his eyes even further as his anger increased when he was met with patience.

"I may not attend court, Rainion but do _not_ make mistake of ever _thinking_ that I am ignorant!" He ended, breathing hard as blazing orbs took in the other's calm form. Soon enough, the fire within them dimmed and eventually started smouldering and it was then that Rainion choose to speak.

"Your father worries how this might affect your health," he said, at which, Thranduil scowled even more. "We simply wish for you to be well. Nothing more."

"And keeping me in the dark would not serve your purpose! One day, I _will _come to know and who is to tell if things will not be more dangerous then?"

"True but look what stress has brought upon you." Rainion responded with firmness, relaxing a little in his tone as Thranduil softened by a bit. "We needed to protect you from _that._"

"If you wish to protect me, then you will not exert me by making me guess." Thranduil replied, his eyes half-lidded as he looked straight ahead. "You will tell me everything in detail and I promise, if I know, I'll be calmer and less anxious."

Rainion considered Thranduil's words. He debated whether to oblige or not but as Thranduil's logic made more sense to him, he nodded with much hesitance.

"But the king must consent as well," he warned, already feeling a helpless sigh in his throat when Thranduil seemed livened up at the suggestion.

"And you must speak with the king."

He didn't miss how the other's face darkened a little at the mention of his father. However, he compromised and nodded before a whisper reached Rainion's ears, "Thank you."

The Silvan offered a smile and leant forward, placing a gentle kiss on the blonde's lips at which the other responded back with light kisses of his own.

As they pulled back, Thranduil glowed with gratitude and trust which had come to pass between them. He smiled quietly at the other, his cheeks adorning a shy tinge of red, and Rainion smiled back, feeling the slow spread of warmth all over his chest.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> So now you know why the elf-dwarf thing never settled. No direct confrontation equals cold war. Seen it happen waaaay too many times. Okay, crappy explanation—I know! And ooh, sneakiness is smart but should it pay? Hmmmm. And Thorin/Esja is not the real focus here. So I'll keep it to a minimum. But not like, implication with one or two lines. Paragraphs maybe. Which...is still less compared to the main *main* pairing.

Okay, I'm ranting here. Please review and lemme know if I've popcorned your brain! I hope not! D:


	5. Chapter 5

**To Sow a Barren Land**

**Disclaimer:** Okay, not even in my dreams. *pouts*

**AN: ** Alrighty! The coffee beans are in the machine. Water is boiling. We are on track to the War of the Last Alliance...well, my own warped version of it. Thranduil is five months along and he will not be spared from the drama! But this chapter kinda has fluff. :3

Many thanks to all who have supported this fic~

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><p><strong>Chapter 5<strong>

Doors of the study burst open and a whirl of robes flew past, startling Oropher from the documents splayed on his desk. He looked up to see the 'raging tornado' and frowned the moment later when his eyes landed on an impatient figure standing across him with a very serious expression.

On seeing who it was, he masked his surprise quite well. For it had been months since they properly talked. Much less, _see _each other. Initially, he was angry but as it faded away, Oropher found himself being pushed away from his son's life as matters of state grabbed his entire attention. Somehow, he too pushed Thranduil away from him. That was what singed him every day and every night.

"I'd expect some courtesy from the prince of Greenwood," Oropher said with irritation before turning his focus on to the document.

"I apologize for lack of it," Thranduil answered promptly, "Though I'd expect knowledge on _Mirkwood._"

Oropher quickly looked up from the text and at his son, clearly surprised from the mention of the new name. Thranduil stared back dubiously, raising his chin a little as he became more impatient.

"You are not supposed to know that," Oropher said disapprovingly, mentally noting to have a word with that Silvan elf.

"Oh _come now_ Adar. Ignorance is the last thing you'd expect from me!"

"Obedience is another thing that I'd expect," Oropher retorted back, absolutely dissatisfied at Rainion who couldn't do that one vital task.

"And trust is another which I do not _need _to expect!" Thranduil's replied, disdainfully looking back at the king which made him wince slightly at the harshness of the words.

With that, Oropher quirked his brow and took a good look at his son. Thranduil had a scowl on his face, concern and annoyance were engraved in his eyes and he stood tall and straight, drenched in every bit of his arrogance which made anyone look past the huge belly in the middle.

Finally, he sighed and gestured for Thranduil to take a seat. When he did, Oropher gazed once more and as Thranduil glanced back with an unfaltered gaze, he finally conceded.

"If you feel any discomfort, you shall be taken to the healers." Oropher warned at which, Thranduil narrowed his eyes and nodded with much resistance.

"I know I should've not neglected you so. You might feel I was disappointed. I'd lie if I said I wasn't at first. But trust me my son," He paused, exchanging a glance with the other, whose demeanour was understandably hard. "I realized you were helpless at that point and what I did was unjust. But I wanted to keep you safe from everything."

He noticed Thranduil shifting in his seat. Even though the prince spoke nothing, the way he was looking now pulled Oropher's chest with a heavy weight. The king sighed one more time and swiftly changed his demeanour. He shielded his paternal feelings and hardened his eyes. He would have to be tact with what he was about to reveal. Thranduil noticed the change and he too schooled his face with utmost seriousness as he let the king speak.

"Listen carefully," Oropher rose from his chair and walked over to the window beside Thranduil. The prince's eyes followed him and burnt on his back as he looked ahead. Steeling himself, Oropher went on as his tone took the form of utmost fact and unbiased diplomacy, "For what I am about to reveal involves so many realms and factors. A grave danger looms over us and I fear we shall be facing it sooner than all others."

* * *

><p>The court was in complete disarray. Only a handful of advisors were present but the chaos they roused up exceeded that caused by a thousand such dwarves.<p>

"The Necromancer grows stronger. Animals behave strangely in Mirkwood." One advisor spoke, worry flashing in his eyes as he informed the king.

"Giant spiders thrive!" Another added.

"The sky grows darker. The power is more evil!"

"The elves are preparing for war. We must prepare to protect ourselves as well!"

All of them had ashen faces. Their voices were frantic and their eyes were wild with uncontrollable fear.

Thorin glanced at his king who looked at no one particular but had a deep frown on his face as his mind weighed situations.

"What do you think should be our course of action?" He asked a bit loudly, trying to jerk the other out of his trance. When Thrór didn't pay heed, Thorin's own frown increased. He looked at the others briefly and when they seemed to be paler than before, he prodded again, this time with more adamantly, "Should we seek co-operation from the other dwarves? The necklace is hidden. We do not have to worry."

A silence fell upon the vast hall. All eyes remained still on the hunched form of their king. Beneath those bushy eyebrows, they could see how Thrór's eyes remained fixed on to the floor. The frown between his brows grew and sounds of sighs and deep breaths filled the walls.

"My king?" Thorin prompted, feeling an unsettling weight in his heart as a cold chill ran up and down his spine. He inhaled, the frost increasing inside him as he waited for the other to respond. "_Grandfather_."

Finally, the orbs beneath all that hair flashed. The advisors held their breaths as the king's steady stare fell upon them before darting over Thorin, who went utterly rigid.

"Prepare to defend," he ordered in a voice, breezy yet not any less grim. He met Thorin's gaze with his own eyes as sharp and cold as steel. Thorin straightened even further feeling the pierce of those orbs. Then, Thrór spoke in such a way which had no traces of insistence, "Hasten up the wedding. We require an heir."

At that, Thorin's eyes grew big just as his chest swelled with the shrill sound of inhalation. The freeze in his chest was now colder than ice and as shards of it pricked him, his heart began throbbing in a hot stringing pain.

He didn't know how long he had stared. When the murmurs of the others entered his ears, he let out a shuddered breath but stiffened immediately as his eyes landed on those of the king, still glancing with determination. The back of his mind screamed in protest. His heart panged with the fragments of frost penetrating it again and again and each time, it grew merciless than the last.

With the last bit of strength, he nodded.

Thrór's eyes softened briefly with relief before they hardened again as he proceeded to advise his counsel. However, his words were drowned out from Thorin's ears as the prince's thoughts wandered elsewhere.

He found himself letting go of the last piece of fabric that tied him to his desired. The knot broke loose and the fabric swayed before falling and slipping away. The image of a smooth alabaster face came to his mind but it was no longer clear. The burning orbs of blue flashed inside his head but just as soon as they came, they dissolved into an abyss of darkness. Eventually, Thorin's mind was rendered with a blank slate.

Without any words, he stormed out from the throne room. Heads turned and worried voices called after him but he ignored it all. Hastening his pace, he made his way towards the balcony where he knew he'd be left undisturbed and where he could think. A hurricane of emotions ramaged his chest and Mahal knew how much he needed to sort them out before he went insane!

* * *

><p>Thranduil sat in a stupor as Oropher finished narrating the events. His eyes were dazed and his mind was completely empty as he seemed like he himself didn't know which factor to grasp first. One thing led to another and with the slightest push, everything would crumble.<p>

He breathed slowly and steadily, a shaking hand gently touching his stomach. Concern clashed with Oropher's strictness and as he noticed Thranduil's frigid form, the father in him became worried and he came to stand in front of the other, gently touching his shoulders for support.

At the touch, Thranduil snapped out of his trance and with huge blue eyes laden with dread, he stared, silently directing all of his questions. Oropher sighed and looked to his side before meeting Thranduil's gaze. He had no answer for that which Thranduil sought to ask.

The younger elf's eyes flicked with a sudden burst of presence and he spoke urgently, breaking the silence which stretched between them, "Gil-galad's troops are well endowed with weapons. Their armour is stronger and more advanced than ours. How do we fare a chance with what we've got?"

"I cannot ask him for supplies." Oropher replied at which, Thranduil's eyes flashed even more with anger.

"I would _never _suggest you do so," he replied as inherent pride coloured his face, "But it is unfair."

"And yet rational," Oropher countered. His voice embellished the dread he felt and his face grew solemn at the same pace with which coldness dawned on Thranduil's expressions. "For if war starts, Mirkwood will be the first one to fall."

Thranduil nodded but his scowl grew as he stared on his lap, clenching and unclenching his jaws before he asked hesitantly, "And the dwarves?"

Oropher's eyes flared with anger and he withdrew his hands from the other's shoulders, making Thranduil glance at them momentarily. "We do not co-operate with kin slayers."

He noticed the look on Thranduil's face which was none other than concern. However, just as soon as it had appeared, Thranduil overcame it swiftly enough. It was odd. He thought Thranduil would fret for his ungrateful lover. However, it seemed like the feeling went away on its own rather than Thranduil trying to hide it. Oropher noticed but he didn't comment.

"And both sides have already expressed where we stand. No. We shall not form an alliance with them."

"Then who _will _we form an alliance with?" Thranduil asked and it had been much longer since he sounded so tactful.

Oropher's eyes gleamed as pride swelled in his chest. He could see traces of the old Thranduil rushing back in his son's form. The cloud of depression that had veiled him was beginning to break and the father was never before so relieved.

His lips twitched with the barest of smile and he said, gaining every bit of attention from the other, "The men."

"The men?" Thranduil sounded surprised. He _was _surprised and his wide eyes did no attempt to hide it. "Adar, they will fall long before we reach Mount Doom! How can you put trust on _men_?"

"You are way too ignorant of what strength others possess, my son!" Oropher chided lightly at Thranduil who quickly controlled himself and let the other explain. "Those who show will in times of utter carnage are ones with heart and power. The men have responded. The men are willing unlike _dwarves _who hide in their tunnels. So yes. I put trust on men."

Thranduil's expressions softened as he thoughtfully stared on his enlarged stomach. Oropher's hardness melted away at the very sight and he gingerly placed a hand on the area, causing Thranduil to look unexpectedly up at him.

"I do not trust the Noldo. But I do not doubt them in times of need. I shall not be Gil-galad's pawn. But I can't very well let everything that I've built to be set to flames." Solicitous feelings took away the edge in his face and as he caressed the spot, a twinkle of happiness shone in forest green orbs, hardened over the years.

He withdrew his hand but still, his eyes were transfixed upon Thranduil's developing child, a gentleness and reminiscence marring them as he thought of the times back when his wife too expected their precious son.

"And I can't let those that I love be set to ruins," He added quietly, and smiled slightly when Thranduil glanced at him with considerable understanding. His face was briefly marred with hesitation as Thranduil seemed like he wanted to tell something. But he quickly decided against it and brought back the seriousness he had about him.

Yet again Orpher noticed but somehow, he didn't think it proper to address it.

_Not yet, at least._

* * *

><p>Light steps broke his thoughts and Thorin stared ahead with attention before he addressed the other without even looking back, "I am to be married. Sooner than the month ends."<p>

"I know," came a soft reply as the person stood behind him with reservation and politeness.

Chamomile and juniper blossomed throughout the air and Thorin sniffed them heartily, immediately feeling a lot calmer as he faced the other.

"I can't promise my heart to you." He said again, and _again _it surprised him how understanding the other was.

"I know," Esja replied and remained still, waiting for Thorin to speak his turn.

"Are you accepting a loveless marriage?" Thorin asked but this time, his factual tone wavered with surprise and uncertainty. He felt all the more confused and frowned when the other nodded. "That is a great sacrifice. You will do that for me?"

At that, Esja's face revealed the determination she had and without a hint of doubt, she responded peacefully, "You sacrificed as well."

Thorin's eyes flickered as he was caught but before he could say anything else, they stripped away the bewilderment, fell on the woman and allowed her to say, "And it has been arranged by our elders. I had no say in it. But...I am not disappointed. I do not seek your heart as your lover. I know that will never be. However, as I had said before, I value friendship more. This marriage is loveless, but it promises me a great friend. That is all I ask."

Thorin was at a loss of speech. He felt the ice in him melting just a little and Esja's words rung so true to his ears that he couldn't help but be amazed.

He nodded in gratitude and then, Esja smiled. "But I can't allow you to take consorts."

She joked but she was serious with what she had said. Somehow, it made Thorin's lips curl upwards and he too let out a smile.

"Neither will I tolerate any of yours," he joked back and though his sense of humour seemed so foreign to him, he was amused at how easily Esja brought it back.

The dwarf-lady laughed at that and her eyes glinted with mirth and a cheekiness which immediately lifted up much of Thorin's mood.

"Then it is settled." She declared.

"So it is." Thorin agreed and both stared in front, basking in the peace that surrounded them.

And after many months, Thorin felt nice.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> Will Thranduil finally tell Oropher the truth? Will he keep his child? Who will be his child? (Okay that one, I'm sure you've guessed...or have you?) Please review!


	6. Chapter 6

**To Sow a Barren Land**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own it.

**AN: **I'm fast-forwarding here a bit. Thranduil is due in roughly two months. The limelight is a bit less on Thorin and Esja but...then again, the main *main* pairing is Rainion/Thranduil.

Thanks to everyone who have reviewed/faved/followed. It means a lot Thank you. :)

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><p><strong>Chapter 6<strong>

A month passed and prior to the last week of it, Erebor was celebrating the marriage between their prince and his beautiful bride.

The marriage itself was done on a much shorter scale but in no way was it trivial. Dwarves of every kingdom were invited—the Blue Mountains, Moria—and each and every one rejoiced in the union of two souls. The dwarves of Erebor rejoiced of having the surety of an heir, and the royal family and a few prying minds rejoiced of severing all ties with the elves. They relieved with a breath of fresh air that their prince chose their own kind. Not a treacherous, infertile woodelf whose very kin was a disgrace.

Thorin was grateful for having a friend who'd not let his mind stray to the remnants of his painful past and Esja expressed her gratitude to have made a special place in Thorin's heart—even if it was not that of love.

But as months progressed, the situation became dire. Orcs increased in packs as much as they had increased in boldness. Warg scouts circled deep woods under the Lonely Mountain. Trees were no more bright and green with foliage.

Spiders nested in the Mirkwood. Giant in size and venomous in might, the woodelves battled them every other day, trying to keep them at bay. The patches of land Oropher had assigned had been claimed by the forest. No crops grew there and the saplings which did grow withered and died very quickly. Animals behaved uncharacteristically. Trees became sicker. The whole forest was shadowed by darkness.

The power of the Necromancer grew and Mirkwood was feeling every ominous pulse of it.

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><p>Thranduil's face twisted as a low pain rumbled in his lower belly. He steadied himself against the desk at his father's study and took deep breaths, trying to keep calm while his father and Rainion spoke about the winter supplies. Fortunately, they were too busy in their discussion to notice and Thranduil was glad for once.<p>

Low voices could be heard coming from behind and every now and then, they would be broken by ruffling sounds of parchment, where most likely either one would be checking the estimates.

His stomach throbbed and he began feeling uncomfortable as beads of sweat lined his brows. He was ten months along and the weight he carried caused his feet to swell enormously. Behind, the voices carried on with their discussion.

"The war seems inevitable. We need ration. Do we have enough to last the winter or is there any surplus?"

"We have surplus, my lord," Rainion's voice floated to Thranduil's ears and he stood up straight, wincing the moment later as he hunched down and supported his weight against both his arms splayed across the desk.

"Should things go worse, we move further north." It was Oropher who spoke next and at his words, Thranduil stifled a groan and partly turned his face towards his right, hoping to catch the conversation better. Halfway through, he gasped out as quietly as he could when he felt a cramp in his stomach, making him clench his eyes shut and lower his head while his breaths came out short and ragged.

"And if we should run out?"

He frowned hard, bringing one arm to clutch his stomach which pained progressively. His knees became weak and each time he would try and breathe in, it would hurt him with a sudden throb. The sweat increased and the light tunics and robes he was wearing were quickly becoming wet.

"Then we have no choice but to ask Lothlórien for ration."

His frown deepened and Thranduil's breath became short and laboured. His stomach was throbbing and his lower regions were aching so badly that made his head spin. Thranduil gripped the edge of his father's chair and let out another gasp. The pain didn't stop. His knuckled became white hot from the sheer pressure he was giving off to the chair. His arm began trembling as his grip became tighter and the pain became harder by the second.

His eyes shot open when he felt a terrible pang and immediately, Thranduil looked around towards the other two elves who were still busy with their meeting. He opened his mouth but all that came out was a gasp as Thranduil hunched over unceremoniously, gripping his belly with both of his hands.

Fear clouded his mind. He had felt no pain like the one he was feeling at that moment. This was not like the stress induced one he had felt before. Nor was it similar to the baby's kicks. This was different.

Immediately, his mind reeled back to all those months when he'd be writhing from the pure agony which sliced him like a white hot knife. He remembered the blood. He remembered what caused such flow of blood and his heart froze over when he remembered the _agony._

The terror he had long been able to suppress suddenly found no hindrance and flushed towards his heart with a rapid speed. Another cramp and Thranduil grit his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut as the pain grew more and more intense. He opened his mouth yet again and tried calling out to the others but all that escaped was a low jet of air before he clamped it shut as another wild pain tore him up.

Then, something trickled down his legs.

Thranduil stilled. His eyes were dilated and the terror he had been feeling was overturn by pure _horror_ as his mind simply stopped thinking.

He groaned weakly as another bout of cramps settled in him and before he knew it, he was letting out a sharp gasp through which, his voice ejected a scream of pure fright.

"_Adar_!"

Ruffled noises filled the chamber, followed by heavy steps against the carpet, projecting extreme urgency as they came closer and more frantic.

Soon, he found a pair of strong arms gripping him tight. He was supported against a well built chest and was gently lowered on to the floor as another pair of arms examined him between his leggings.

Moistened eyes fell upon the Silvan elf who glanced worriedly at the king before Thranduil moved his head and settled his gaze on his father.

Oropher was visibly concerned. He glanced between Rainion and his son, his mouth opening a little in surprise, probably at some gesture made by the other.

Thranduil's heart was beating rapidly. Panic filled every cranny of his insides and his tone barely in whispers amidst the pain, he asked, "Like before?"

Oropher bit his lips before he hardened his jaws and kept on staring at the other. Thranduil now faced the one near his legs and practically pleaded, "Is it like before?"

He barely took a breath before another gasp made its way out of his mouth. Thranduil's vision became bleary and he let himself fall back against Oropher, who secured him tightly and didn't complain when Thranduil's vice-like grip was placed on his arm as another cramp radiated from within him.

"What is going on?" His father's voice was vaguely registered but the panic in it didn't go amiss. All the while, Thranduil groaned and gasped, praying for Eru to spare his child from the horrifying fate he had come to face earlier.

He felt fingers retracting from his thighs and despite agony, Thranduil took in Rainion, who seemed utterly confused as he said, "It's not blood, my king. It's water."

Thranduil's gasp was drowned by the sound of tat eliciting from his father.

_Not blood?_

Thranduil felt relief washing over him like a cool rain and his lips cracked into a tiny smile as he fully rested against Oropher. It was not blood. His child was safe.

He frowned immediately as a thought crossed his mind. Just then, his father's hold on him grew tighter as if he too sensed the very same line of thinking.

"What?" Oropher voiced the question. His tone was shaking with anticipation and panic. As for Thranduil, his eyes widened at the realization before he clenched it shut as another loud groan filled the room as the pain became unbearable.

Rainion was heard standing up. "He's in labour," he declared as he shuffled towards the exit.

"What? Now? He shouldn't be for the next two months!"

Which was exactly what Thranduil thought! He wasn't supposed to go into labour so soon! Was his child alright? Would he be safe?

His mind bubbled with question and the more he thought, the more tensed he grew. Very soon, Thranduil felt the warm touch shifting in position before his head felt light and he was lifted off from the floor, being cradled by his father.

The Silvan hastened out and Oropher's steps were quickened as he followed the other.

Thranduil writhed and whimpered, trying to choke back any screams which made their way out of his mouth. His eyes were streaming with tears and his head was feeling heavy and light at the same time.

"Adar, the child," he began weakly but grit his teeth when another cramp wrenched him.

"It is alright, Thranduil. No need to worry, _ion._" Oropher soothed before he yelled at those who blocked his passage.

Thranduil shook his head and still tried to get his father to listen. But no matter how many times he tried, Oropher would always end up soothing him as he rushed after Rainion.

The pain was increasing. He began feeling extremely wet in between his thighs and as they passed through the long corridor, Oropher's stride led to a sprint.

"Listen please," Thranduil managed between gasps.

"Move, move! Get out of the way!"

His voice was weakened and in between breaths and gasps, Thranduil finally managed to say, "I lied."

"Do not fret, son. It will be over soon." Oropher seemed to pay no heed and he trudged through.

By then, Thranduil was not lucid. He was gripping his consciousness tight and was paying no mind to his surroundings.

"It's a full elf," he whispered, his head lazily rolling towards the other's chest. Unfortunately, much like him, Oropher too paid no attention to anything but the state of his son. The king was desperately running towards Thranduil's chambers while Rainion went to fetch the healer.

"Get out of the way!" He screamed and seeing the king in such a dishevelled state, the elves moved out of his way, allowing for him to run past them as they looked with curiousness and concern at the limp form of their prince.

And under Oropher's shouts, Thranduil's weak tone was somewhere lost and the secret he had been carrying still remained as one.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Okay this was a short chapter but I felt it was a good place to leave it off. You know...I wish Oropher lived. I don't wanna kill him in the battle. :( Please review.


	7. Chapter 7

**To Sow a Barren Land**

**Disclaimer:** I only wish.

**AN: **This chapter takes care of another factor: the necklace. I haven't really put much focus on the actual birthing scene here but this too solves a much asked question. You'll see. Won't be long till The Last Alliance.

Thanks to all who have reviewed/faved/followed~

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><p><strong>Chapter 7<strong>

Hooves clashed against the muddy ground as the riders tore through the forest in nigh time. They bore two torches lighting up only a small circle of forest in front. Darkness undeterred them. Light _scared_ them.

Occasionally, the riders looked back over their shoulders. They settled their gaze around and scanned the part that they had just passed, as if to check if they were being trailed or not. Then they would look away and the rider in the middle would clutch his chest as their pace hastened even more.

The rider at the very end suddenly perked up. A frown crossed his face. It soon became smooth with an unreadable expression and his eyes flickered for a while before he looked back. Within seconds, his orbs went small like the tip of a needle and he quickly looked ahead as he felt a cold mist setting within him.

"Hey," he called out at which, the others hushed him and shot him irritated glances. The dwarf at the back shook his head. At that, those ahead of him faltered for a second and continued staring with eyes big, filled with questions which became bigger as the other said something in his native tongue.

Even in the dim light, the trailing dwarf could see their faces going ashen and the silence which fell between them got all the more ghastly as someone swallowed thickly .

The leader of the band ordered something in a hushed tone and as the middlemost dwarf fisted the clutch of his hood, the forest echoed with thumping of hooves which grew faster in tempo and harder in its beat.

From afar, shadow passed over the moon, slowly sliding over it before moonbeams again seeped into the forest. The west sky became lighter and a soft glow of orange spread over it which flickered for moments before the sky got covered in darkness yet again.

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><p>Thranduil was writhing in pain. Tears flowing freely from his cheeks, the elf used his hands as vices, clutching on to both his father and lover, gripping them tight each time a contraction ripped him apart.<p>

Hours into the labour, he cursed and shouted at anyone who caught his attention and finally when the healer said he was ready, he screamed out in response, beginning to push with each surge of pain, grinding the other elves' hands in the process.

"Not much longer now," he heard Rainion's voice to the left and he glared up at him dangerously, opening his mouth to retort back before he formed them to a loop and squeezed his eyes shut while breathing out jets of air rapidly with another onslaught of contraction.

Sweat drizzled down from his skin, his hair plastered to his forehead and fat tears of pain rolled down his now blotchy cheeks. Thranduil was tired, he was hurting and he wept in impatience and agony.

At that point, he wanted nothing more than to get this over with. And considering how he refused to let the others go, his father and Rainion too wished for the same.

Finally, the healer announced, "I can see him crowning."

To Thranduil, those were the sweetest words one could_ ever _hear. A cry broke through his throat and he pushed hard, feeling his entire energy leaving him and grinding his bones along the way.

Moments seemed like hours and the pain showed no sign of reducing. Thranduil's breaths were heavy and hot from the exertion that he felt. His voice was hoarse from screaming and no matter how many times he was dabbed with a cool water soaked cloth, he still felt like being crushed under the sheer pressure which never seemed to stop.

"One more push," he heard.

With the last reserves of his strength, he braced himself and pushed hard. Through his clenched teeth, another screech made its way out, soon transforming into a cry that seemed to fill the entire room.

Eventually, the scream died down and Thranduil fell back heavily on the pillows, panting loudly as his lungs desperately needed air. He felt someone wiping his brows with a cool towel and for a while he indulged in the soothing effect it produced.

Suddenly, his breath hitched just as his eyes flew open with a panic before he swatted away the hand and abruptly sat up. He felt a pair of hands steadying him and two voices, telling him to lie down. Thranduil shrugged away the touches and paid no attention to the concerns of his father and lover as wild eyes searched all over the room for something which was too precious for him to lose.

At that moment, his heart was shadowed with panic and fear and in his mind, only one thought came up in chants.

He shot a glance over to the elves beside his sides and the way his lips trembled against his pale face shouted out the unspoken question.

His eyes were huge and tearful. Fret darkened the vibrant orbs of blue and the more Thranduil thought about it, further the dread gripped his heart tight, causing it to skip many beats.

Then it happened.

The silence which covered the room was suddenly disturbed with a shrill wail.

For a while, Thranduil didn't react. He kept his gaze darting between both of the elves as the beating of his heart was still rapid and fearful.

However, when pure relief flooded over the faces of Oropher and Rainion, Thranduil finally let out the breath he didn't know he was holding and with much prayer to the Valar, he cast his gaze in front of him where the healer was busy finishing off with the necessities.

After the baby was finished being washed, she smiled at the three elves and gingerly handed the precious cloth-covered bundle in the arms of the awaiting father.

Thranduil was scared at first. His boy was so tiny and so delicate with the pink flesh and little features. Just like a glass doll!

But when he was guided to hold his baby, his fears subsided away and his eyes were filled with wonder as he took in the delicate form in his hands. The healer then stepped back and with a gentle smile at the other two elves, she declared, "Congratulations my lord. It's a boy."

He heard the others' breath hitch and Rainion congratulating his king on their heir. However all those seemed so trivial at that very moment and they died down from Thranduil's ears as his world _solely_ focused upon his son.

When the baby became calm, there was pure joy sparkling in Thranduil's eyes and he looked up at his companion, gleaming with pride. Rainion smiled, his eyes too brimming with tears.

"He is healthy but since he arrived early, we must keep a close eye on him for a few more months," the healer added and when her words were understood, she left the room, giving the family their privacy.

Thranduil caressed the little blond head gently and held his child close. A smile broke across his lips as he sighed and closed his lids, thanking the Valar for the little miracle they had performed. Years of sadness, empty trials and bitter tears now all concentrated on the tiny bundle squirming in his arms.

At last, he was a father. He had a child.

Thranduil's face fell slightly when the elfling was taken in the arms of a wet nurse. The disappointment soon vanished into marvel as he whispered blissfully, "_Our _son...Rainion, we have a gorgeous son."

With that, he closed his eyes again and as the day's exhaustion took hold of him with full force, Thranduil soon lulled into a much deserved sleep.

He missed the Silvan's loving look transforming into that of restraint as Oropher's calm eyes became huge with lapped surprise. He failed to see how shocked his father was as the king's eyes darted between Rainion and himself while his lips trembled with unvoiced demands.

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><p>Across the darkness, a dwarf ran with scurry feet. He didn't look back from where flashes of orange lit up the trees momentarily. However just as the light disappeared, the forest grew even darker. Ghostly screams bounced off from the trees. Clangs of swords drowned away by the horrifying screams and screeches, making the dwarf cringe and clutch his chest each time they entered his ears.<p>

His eyes were wide and terrified. He dared not look neither back nor down. His sole focus was to stare ahead and run like he had never run before. In the process, the dwarf stumbled and almost nearly fell. He quickly recovered himself each time and as he did, the grip on his chest became tighter as he ran for his dear life.

Suddenly, his ears caught a wild growl and he whirled around in pure horror. All the while he kept his feet kept going, never having the galls to stop before turning sharply to face the front. However this time, he couldn't keep his balance as he tripped over a rock and fell flat on his chest.

He groaned painfully and rested his eyes on the floor of mottled leaves to gather himself. The dizziness he felt disappeared the moment he caught something right in front of him. Something that was not supposed to be there at all! Immediately he frowned, realizing that it was probably a fate worse than what his fellow riders had suffered. As seconds passed, his face cracked with helplessness and failure when it became clear that there was no escape for him.

His breaths came out in shudders and he slowly raised his gaze. When they fell upon the being in front of him, he clutched his chest out of pure instincts. His eyes widened massively before he squeezed them shut and grit his teeth. His cheeks were wet with flowing tears as a cold and harsh dread took over his whole form.

Curling his fist into tight balls, he let out a whimper, fear distorting his face even more. His lips moved and instead of a tone, all that came out was a quivered rasp which grew sharper with the imminent danger.

The familiar sound of unsheathing scratched the uncomfortable stillness and the dwarf prayed fervently as fat tears wetted his face.

Lips began moving fast. The rasp grew shriller. His prayer was left unfinished when his rasp stopped abruptly, followed by a sharp intake of air. The fist gripping his chest shook a little and after a few seconds, his fingers slowly unfurled. His body went limp and the life in his eyes quickly withered away as the dwarf lay in a pool of blood.

Another sound of sheathing followed and once more the night was draped in quietness, speaking nothing but eeriness and foreboding as the fallen dwarves lay on the forest floor, smeared with blood and carnage.

But they fulfilled their task. One final time, they obeyed their king.

* * *

><p>The doors to the study burst open and Thorin strode in like a storm, nostrils flaring and face reddened with urgency. An advisor followed after him, muttering that the king was asked not to be disturbed but Thorin promptly ignored him as he walked up to the main desk.<p>

"We are doomed," he said without wasting any time.

The grimness in his voice drew Thrór's attention. He sat up straight and with a quiver in his tone, asked, "What do you mean?"

At that, Thorin's face grew graver. He looked at the other darkly and with a tone matching his demeanour, he said, "The necklace is nowhere to be found. It is hidden well. But all of our warriors were killed. All but one! He barely escaped with his life from the orcs."

"The orcs?" Thrór repeated, his eyes flashing with worry which only increased as Thorin nodded.

"They were returning when an orc pack attacked them. The survivor managed to stay hidden. He said, the orcs were killed as well by an army of elves. The war is starting. But Grandfather, they elves...they noticed how few dwarves were there. How lightly armed they were. They_ know _it is us."

A slow frown appeared on the dwarf king's temple which soon drilled furrows. The panic which flashed on his expressions earlier washed away quickly. Hopelessness seeped in.

Finally, the king looked away from the other and stared blankly on his desk.

"Then we are doomed," he said in a hushed tone which spoke of how lost he felt at that moment.

Like Thorin, Thrór too placed his hopes on the fact that the Necromancer was on the top of the elves' priorities. They hoped that with time, this would be forgotten. However, it was merely wishful thinking.

After the war, they'd come. Erebor wouldn't be spared. Thorin knew his family wouldn't be spared.

Their fate was sealed and it'd only be by the grace of a miracle that the elves would now spare them. "Mahal save us."

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>No, they didn't name the baby yet but it will serve me better for what I have planned. If you have any doubt, feel free to ask me.:) Please review!


	8. Chapter 8

**To Sow a Barren Land**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything but the plot and the OMC.

**AN: **Utterly utterly sorry for going off the radar like that. Needed to take care of some things. But I am back now!

Not much long now. I'm now wrapping this baby up. So it's not gonna be Thorinduil after all...though, I'm not so sure about the saddest ending imaginable. So I guess, that's a good thing? ^^;

Really, thank you all for being patient with this and for supporting it. :)

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><p><strong>Chapter 8<strong>

Oropher eyed the Silvan suspiciously for a while. The initial shock wearing off fast, all that was left in him was surprise and bafflement and as Thranduil slept peacefully, the silence around them felt all the more uncomfortable.

Finally, Oropher cleared his throat and gestured for the other to follow him. Rainion nodded and obliged, stopping shortly just outside the doorway.

Oropher scrunched up his face. A million of possible ways came up in his mind as he contemplated the best way to interrogate. He felt Rainion's defensive yet curious gaze on him the entire time which made him very uneasy. When none of the methods felt pleasing, Oropher rolled his eyes and shook his head as he opted for the most preferred approach.

"Are you wedded to my son?"

The directness with which he asked took Rainion by complete surprise. The younger elf stared incredulously and blinked a few times before his face grew long and white and he had to avert his eyes to the floor.

Oropher's expressions modified accordingly and he let out a quiet sigh, rolling his eyes yet again as surprise crept on his own face along with a form of distress.

"You are not wedded," he said, more like a confirmation to him, while a frown appeared between his brows. "You are not wedded and yet Thranduil has an elf child. Do you _know _how it will look?"

He couldn't conceal his frustration in the end. He had hissed, making Rainion jump lightly. He cursed himself mentally, snuck a look into the room to find Thranduil still sleeping and then brought his tone down, "The kingdom knows he was to be married to that dwarf. They saw how he grieved. Do you _know _what they'll start to call him now that a child has been sired by another _elf_?_ Another elf_!"

Rainion was heard drawing a breath and when he was confident enough to answer—even by a miniscule amount—he spoke, "Sire, he—I wish I could tell you the circumstances but I was..." He bit his lips and at that, Oropher raised a brow waiting for the explanation to come.

After a few moments, Rainion spoke again, "He was insistent."

Green eyes narrowed and his face was set to stone-coldness as Oropher let his intense gaze examine the elf paling before him.

"Insistent." He repeated in a stern manner, not believing for one second that Thranduil was desperate enough.

Then suddenly, something flashed in his mind. He started flipping through the memories which were still so vivid. The memories of his son—the vacant look in his eyes, the hopelessness in his tone and the shattered expression when he came to know he couldn't bear a child.

His heart felt cold and chilled with an understanding hitting him in full force that made the father in him miserable for his son.

He once feared of Thranduil doing something irrational in his state of depression. It appeared as if that irrationality had already been done.

"Oh Valar, I see no light to this darkness," he muttered to himself, covering his eyes in his palm. He was clueless in how to manage his people. He could not possibly fathom what he'd tell his people and how they'd react once they knew the truth. He had managed to keep Thranduil hidden with the excuse of him recovering from his grief. What excuse could he possibly provide for Thranduil to be engaged with another elf _and _with a child?

Oropher's eyes vaguely registered that Rainion was beginning to speak something. However, both eves were startled when the frantic voice of a guard called out to his king.

"My lord," the panic was clear in his eyes and as if that wasn't enough to snap Oropher out of his stupor, the warrior's quivering tone made sure of it.

"What is it?" Oropher asked, managing to suppress a familiar foreboding feeling deep within him. The guard didn't respond immediately. He gasped out at which Oropher made a gesture with his face. "Speak out!" He admonished, making the guard all the more frantic.

Eventually, despite his ashen features, the guard stood in attention and with absolute directness said, "The Noldor intercepted a band of dwarves."

At that, Oropher straightened himself and frowned. Rainion too perked up and was focusing his gaze upon the other. As the guard was about to elaborate further, the elven king raised a hand to stop him before he faced the other way.

"Thranduil is waking up," he said noticing the protest in Rainion's eyes at which, he gave the other a stern and meaningful look. "He requires your assistance."

Rainion let the deep denial be shown on his expressions, before he went placid realized it was better for him to leave and without another word, he bowed, leaving the king to attend to his matter.

Once they were alone, Oropher again turned his attention to the guard and asked, "What about them? Where were they caught and when?"

"Last night, Sire. The trees have spoken," he explained. Pausing a brief moment, the elf mentally formed the words carefully and went on, "They were caught en route to Erebor. They had the necklace."

Oropher's frown dissolved away and in its place, he was smeared with another bout of surprise.

"W-what?"

He couldn't believe what his ears had caught.

Erebor? Erebor was responsible for Thingol's death?

The frost in his chest became colder. As he let out a painful gasp while darting his eyes unfocusedly onto the floor, Oropher found his mind juggling with the reality which crashed on to the previous one.

But the guard wasn't done.

He inhaled sharply and Oropher felt himself growing pale with dread and anxiety at what was left to be said.

The elf had a solemn expression about him. It was grim and yet, within the graveness, there was a hint of fire burning in his eyes—the remnants of his rage—which made Oropher all the more nervous.

Finally, the words tumbled out, "The necklace is lost."

And Oropher felt the world collapsing all around him.

* * *

><p>Thranduil smiled up at his lover and extended an arm, indicating other to take his place beside him on the bed.<p>

Rainion smiled back and taking his hand, he kneeled down and pressed a small kiss on Thranduil's forehead. The elven prince smiled warmly and while Rainion was pulling apart, Thranduil reached up, palmed the other's face, pulled him down and pressed their lips together.

He heard a small surprised sound escaping from the Silvan but undeterred, Thranduil tipped his head and deepened their kiss.

Rainion placed a hand tentatively on Thranduil's chest and pulled apart.

"Wait, your father is outside," he warned.

Thranduil rolled his eyes and pulled him down again as he whispered softly into his ears, "This is _not _outside, _meleth_."

With that, he let out a small chuckle and gently fluttered kisses on Rainion's mouth. He frowned a moment later when he felt the warmth of a palm on his chest. When it began pushing him slightly, Thranduil portrayed a look of irritation and looked up inquisitively.

His expression faltered, however, when one look at Rainion showed the seriousness and a hint of worry he was bearing.

"What ails you, _meleth_?" Thranduil asked, flickering his eyes in between the other's, trying to deduce the kind of distress Rainion had.

On being asked, Rainion's brows creased and he looked at a spot just over Thranduil's head, as if he was mentally preparing the words that would sound proper.

Thranduil frowned even more at the awkward pause. He reached up and cupped the other's cheeks tightly. Tangling his fingers with the Silvan's brown locks, he pulled him close so that his lover could now see him and not some wall while he was expected to answer.

"Tell me. What ails you?" Thranduil asked with persistence. His eyes were intense and were burning with a strong flame that discouraged any form of distraction.

Finally Rainion sighed and Thranduil's gaze softened at that. He let the other go and his eyes followed the movement of the Silvan as his lover took a seat beside his bed, patiently waiting for a response.

"Your father..." Rainion replied closing his eyes.

The strange pauses in which he fell made Thranduil's furrow grew from concern to confusion. He was about to prod the other but stopped when he got a non verbal response from the other. Rainion slowly opened his eyelids and looked straight into Thranduil's eyes.

Gone was the apprehension. No trace of the fret was now found which previously clouded the other's gaze. Instead of hesitation, worry was speckled in the ors of chocolate brown and to exaggerate the distress even more, Rainion's face—now long and desiccated of mirth—was completely illegible, making Thranduil's heart to beat with a cold and dampened rhythm.

"He heard what you said during your labour," the Silvan continued in a tone which promised no amount of relief.

At that, the elf prince straightened up and viewed the other while trying to recall what he had said during the birth of his babe.

It was a futile attempt for Thranduil was barely conscious and that too in a state where it was just wrong to assume him acting rationally.

"What _did_ I say?" Thranduil finally asked. By then, his heart was racing rampantly and it was gripped with such an ill feeling that made him run the worst possible questions in his mind.

Rainion inhaled deeply, letting out a shuddered breath and twiddling his fingers. After what felt like forever, Thranduil's eyes intently stares at the other as he began speaking something—

"Adar!"

-before he shot a glance at the form of his father bolting into his room.

Rainion snapped his mouth close and turned himself, abruptly standing up in presence of the king, who came straight to stand on the opposite side of Thranduil's bed.

"What is the matter?" Thranduil enquired. Worry was sieving inside of him and one look at Oropher cemented the concern that had been growing inside his chest.

Oropher threw a glare at him and Thranduil found keeping himself from backing up to the headboard with a desperate amount of will power. His father's eyes were flaring and his face held such a despondence that Thranduil's eyes automatically widened with fear, frozen upon his father.

"The babe is not of dwarf blood. You lied." Oropher wasted no time in coming to his point. He narrowed his eyes at his son who gulped in hopes of moistening his rapidly parching throat.

"Adar, I—"

He tried to answer but his lips trembled. The beating in his heart increased and the cold swirl— which began churning when he saw Rainion's face— now whirled in full force.

Oropher's hand stopped him from commenting anything else. Instead, Thranduil now faced intense pair of orbs which held extreme anger directed towards him. He glanced at his lover beside him. He had hoped Rainion's face would provide him some form of support. But seeing as how frightened he was, Thranduil realized that the support was tantamount to none at all. Helplessly, he gazed at Oropher all the while maintaining his breathing so that he could at least ease his tension by a bit.

Oopher was breathing at his own pace. After a few moments, he lowered his hand and his face too became less reddened. It was then that Thranduil actually found his voice while he composed himself. Still, he didn't speak. He didn't _dare_.

"How could you lie to me, Thranduil?" It was Oropher who broke the silence. "Why did you keep this from your Adar?"

As he looked at Thranduil, the elven prince could clearly see the hurt and disappointment flashing in those orbs of green—the very same which he witnessed after his lie.

Only this time, it wasn't betrayal that peeped out of them...it was expectation. Rather, it was the _unfulfilled_ form of expectation and it was what pierced Thranduil the most.

He wanted to look away but guilt had frozen him in place. He wanted to look anywhere but at the upset face of Oropher and yet, he found himself unable to.

His father broke the eye contact first. His eyes landed on the floor, searching it for something before bringing his gaze up again. His eyes were hardened and instead of a father's dilemma, they were reflecting a king's conflict. And as he spoke, his tone echoed with every bit of tact that would be expectant of a powerful king, "We've found the kin-slayers."

For a while, Thranduil didn't remember to breathe. A natural reflex such as a blink too became forgotten as he stared with wide eyes of disbelief.

"What?" His words came out barely as bewilderment filled his mind. He exchanged a look with the other before focusing his gaze on the king himself. From what he had seen, Rainion too had went absolutely still, eyes big as saucers and his lower jaw threatening to touch the floor.

Oropher nodded wordlessly. Steeling his face even more, he went on, "It wasn't the dwarves of Belegost, although it was made to be seem so with _almost_ perfectprecision and cleverness."

By then, Thranduil's heart was short of stopping to beat. He was full of trepidation and suddenly, he found an unknown dread taking hold of him with its vice-like claws.

"It was Erebor."

At that, Thranduil's mind went completely numb. He couldn't think anything. He couldn't even _feel._ All of a sudden, he found his world—that world which he _thought_ he knew—changing dramatically and he was left with nothing but indecisions and uncertainty.

He simply didn't know anymore.

A gasp was heard coming from behind, followed by a trembling hand being gingerly placed on his shoulder. But his body jerked away from the touch. Thranduil didn't want to be comforted. He just wanted to make sense of it all.

Suddenly, his eyes flared with anger and his hands fell heavily on both sides of him from his lap.

Thorin? It was Thorin?

His mind was racing backwards to the time when they met again in the forest. Scenes passed through his eyes like a gust of wind while he mentally tried connecting the threads which tied it all. He saw it as a whole again—Thorin, their kiss, their gentle touch, Tharnduil's confession of his pregnancy, Thorin's rejection—everything streamed through like a rapid set of images.

Finally, the images slowed down and became still at one point, focusing on the night when Thorin was almost being attacked by them. He remembered vividly how shocked the other was on seeing him. But that wasn't all.

Thorin had seemed frantic. He had seemed _scared._

Just then, his mind sparked in an understanding and his eyes widened when disgust covered his heart.

Thorin warned them to turn back. In fact, there was no reason for Thorin to be in that forest at all! It was something which Thranduil didn't question, surprisingly. However, now that he did, he found himself growing all the more disgusted.

A sneer crossed his face and he glared down on to his sheets, clenching them tightly with a slight tremble of rage channelling through his body.

He was such a fool to pay no heed to his father's initial warnings! He never knew that race was so greedy! They rejected his love for want of a child. They rejected his child for want of their own progeny and they rejected their morality for want of something which was never rightfully theirs!

He was disgusted with that race. He had enough of their greed. He _hated _them. More so, he hated himself for falling in love with one of them.

Another thought suddenly crossed him.

Then what would become of his child? Would he be taken away? Would Oropher cast him out and pretend that he didn't even exist?

Franticness etched his face and his heart began beating so hard that it threatened to come out of his chest. He lifted his eyes, fearfully looking at Rainion, who looked back with nothing but empathy and a trace of something else. After a moment, he brought his eyes to land on Oropher which grew bigger with his escalating fears.

The warm touch was back on his shoulders but this time, Thranduil didn't pull away.

He prayed to every deity he knew, pleading them with as much desperation as a father would have knowing that his child was going to be stripped away from him. He prayed to change Oropher's mind. He prayed for a way out. If his father took his babe away from him, Thranduil _knew _that he'd not come out of this alive.

Perhaps the Gods heard him for Oropher's stern gaze mellowed out and even though his tone was kept tact and professional, it didn't have the razor sharp edge of a diplomat.

The king quickly looked over at the third elf in the chamber and gave him a nod.

"It must be done," he said. "You must take him to a willing family."

Thranduil's heart panged and he shook his head.

"No, Adar. Please," he pleaded. Feeling his shoulder being squeezed, he looked up at his lover, his eyes bright with unshed tears and a hope of miracle laced about them.

Rainion sighed and replied with an apology in his voice, "I haven't found any, my lord."

At that, Thranduil's eyes gleamed and as the hope in him increased, he again focused back on his father who now looked displeased.

"What do you mean? Have you even _looked_?" The king hissed at which, Rainion flinched causing Thranduil to wince as well.

"Sire, I didn't know how to explain where I got this child. They know I am yet to be wedded and that I am childless!" The Silvan responded with insistence and against all odds, it worked on Oropher. The king's anger simmered down and he was in deep thought.

Thranduil went on praying. He was now begging the Valar to let him keep his new world. He offered his palm and pleaded that he be granted one little part of him which was his entire world.

A forlorn pause stretched the room, engulfing it with a dire tenseness. None spoke and none moved. For them, time had stood still and if either of them so much as blinked, it would apparently break the delicate thread which was binding them all.

At last, Oropher declared, "Then have him under the healer's care for one year. The kingdom is busy in preparation for war which looms over us. No one will pay much attention to who has sired the child. After the war, we shall see."

It was indescribable what Thranduil felt at that moment. His heart was still unsteady but now, it was no longer frightened. Relief washed over him in waves and he thanked the Valar for hearing his cries.

He could keep his child. It was only one year...one agonizing year but there was a possibility that he could reunite with his child after that. Oropher wasn't cold hearted. He would not snatch away Thranduil's happiness, no matter how stoic he wanted himself to be seen. He too was a father. He'd understand, on that Thranduil had full faith. His child would know who his father was and Thranduil could see him every day! He would spend his entire day with him and that way, the child would know that his Ada loved him dearly!

He didn't want to think how he could be involved with his child at the moment. Those were things still to be considered and pondered. However, for the moment, he was truly happy.

He flashed a brilliant smile towards his lover, who smiled back, and then at his father with nothing but gratitude in his gaze.

Oropher nodded and exited the room. As he was walking towards the door, he reminded them one last time, "Find a proper husband for you."

Thranduil smiled and nodded back. He was euphoric. So much in fact that he failed to catch the hint that his father had thrown towards him.

He failed to catch what Rainion did. And if he wasn't so elated at that point, then Thranduil would see the hurt flashing in the Silvan's eyes who looked longingly at the one he had given his heart to and the one with whom he expected to build a quiet little family.

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><p><strong>AN: <strong>Okay so maybe I do have an idea of a somewhat less angsty ending. At the very least, someone will come out somewhat happy from this whole mess. I still don't want to kill Oropher but you can't change history! Not here, at least! *sighs*

Oh and I hope that Rainion is not a Gary Stu. D: I soooo don't wanna end up in the list of authors who make a Gary Stu (or Mary Sue). *This* is why I don't work with OC's. Toooo much tension! Come to think of it...Thranduil isn't being in IC much either. ARRRRGH! *slams head* Please review.


	9. Chapter 9

**To Sow a Barren Land**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything but the plot and the OCs.

**Warning:** Minor Character death.

**AN: **So it starts. As I have said, I'll be keeping most of the battle in the background except for some key events. So...uh...I think I'll have a bit of timeskip in the later chapters. About *this* one, I have fastforwarded to winter.

To all those who've supported this- thank you!

**Guest:** Aww I am really flattered and in a giggling mess after I read your review. Thank you for reading my works and of course it is always a pleasure to know that they are enjoyable. :D Don't worry, I will not kill Rainion. I mean, if you read the end notes, you will know why: because I finally found a way to NOT make it a horribly sad ending fic! I hope you like whats in store...things will light up but first there will be huge amount of drama. Stay tuned. :D And thank you so much for your review! Happy new year~

**Miiau von Pfote:** Oh wow then it gives me all the more reason to work hard and not spoil the fic. And it goes without saying how much I am happy to know you are liking it. Thanks so much for reviewing~ :D

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><p><strong>Chapter 9<strong>

Winter had finally reached Middle Earth and the forests of Erebor were caressed with the touch of snow and ice. Months had passed since their marriage and within these last few months, much had changed between Thorin and Esja. Their growing friendship for one, which strengthened over time and the growing love for Fíli and Kíli who were more their children than Dís'.

However, it was not personal bliss that had soared high. It was the darkness also which swallowed everything in its abysmal shadow. The Necromancer was at the peak of his powers and the One Ring—as it was called—showed no mercy in claiming one's sanity and bending him to its will.

Erebor had endured threats from the elvendom. However, with the growing danger of Arda, they seemed to have shifted their focus on the Necromancer, giving Erebor to breathe a little in relief. But even if they were isolated from the rumours of a forging alliance, they were not safe. They would _never_ be.

Despite of that, Esja was insistent on enjoying the quiet morning after days of turbulence. No matter how Thorin decided against it, he eventually gave in when he was dragged down by his wife, sister and nephews. Now that they were exploring the forest of the foothills of the Lonely Mountain, Thorin walked behind them with a look which clearly showed his displeasure at the idea.

"Oh come now! Don't be a lug," Dís admonished, tugging Thorin's arms as she walked side by side with her brother.

"I am not being one," Thorin grumbled back, keeping a close eye on Esja and the two dwarflings who were hardly containing their excitement. Looking up to his sister, he admitted, "I am worried. It is not the best of times to be enjoying the outdoor. We have two enemies. The elves, the Necromancer and most likely Belegost as well if they hear about the little game we tried playing."

Dís' eyes softened and she took a while regarding her brother with utmost sincerity. As he took in her face, Thorin somehow found it soothing...like the feeling he got whenever his late mother would comfort him during his nights of fright.

"Whatever happens, Mahal does it for the best," she finally spoke, her tone soft and gentle and her smile assuring as well as pleasing. "And we are not far away. Our ponies are nearby. The guards are nearby. You needn't worry."

At her words, a smile crossed Thorin's lips and he nodded in understanding. Dís' smile widened in return and she reached out giving her brother a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder which lessened the stiffness Thorin had about him.

Suddenly, a piercing scream cut the air, snapping their attention from each other to the spot before them. Thorin's breath hitched when he found his wife and the children missing from their eyes. Dís' hold on his shoulder suddenly became burdened and under its weight, his whole frame grew stiff again as a cold and dark hand kept his legs firmly planted on to the ground.

The screams of children came next. Desperate wails filling the air and drowning out the sound of unnatural growls and cackling laughter.

He suddenly jolted into a run and headed for the direction of those screams. Dís followed closely, as did the guards with weapons drawn, while calling out the names of her sons in urgency. They soon revered off the main track. The cries grew louder and Thorin felt a glimmer of hope that they were approaching fast to where the others were. Cutting through bushes and shrubs, he finally stopped to one part of the forest and his heart beat with tremendous relief as he saw Fíli and Kíli sitting sprawled across the forest floor. Their eyes were streaming with tears and as their gaze landed upon their uncle, the fear in their wails lessened by a very small amount.

He began approaching them but Dís ran past him, scooping Fíli in her arms and holding Kíli close. She was trembling in shock and fear much like himself but unlike him, she didn't try hard to keep her quivers in control.

Thorin opened his arms and motioned for Kíli, who wobbled towards him. When he came into his arms, Throin gave him a tight hug and scooped him up at which, Kíli hugged him tightly. The children secure, Thorin next turned his attention to his wife.

His face paled when he realized that only Fili and Kíli were the ones in that area.

"Where's your aunt?" He asked Kíli softly.

Dread began nesting in his heart and when Kíli looked up at him with watery eyes and a face cracking with sadness, Thorin felt his heart had stopped beating altogether. Without a second thought, he felt his legs move on their own and making his way through another patch of bushes, Thorin paused with terrified eyes at the sight which greeted him.

Dís joined him soon after, followed by the few number of guards they had brought. All of them stopped midway and paled at what they saw before their eyes.

On the floor lay Esja. Blood was gushing out from a stab wound to her chest, rendered by what looked like an orc blade and there was a vicious bite to her jugular vein from which thick, dark blood flowed, mingling with the crimson pool beneath her.

"NO!"

Thorin's eyes were watering fast. The fear which he accumulated was swiftly turning into a cold and hard reality. His mind was boggled with a sense of failure and soon another sense hit him hard, causing his heart to ache miserably. It was very similar to when he was torn away from Thranduil, very similar to when he faced a different elf back in the woods, same as when he lost his father to one of his conquests. It was what he had hoped to escape. Loss.

"NO!" He kneeled down beside his wife, clutching Kíli close to his chest and keeping the little one from viewing the horrid sight before him. Fíli was sniffling. Dís must've done it to him also.

There was no hope. His mind told him that saving her now would be futile. Yet he tried. He tried to see if she was breathing; if there was even a faint trace of heaving from her chest. He brought a palm near her nostrils, hoping against hope that a small jet of air would hit him. But none did.

Desperation covered the dwarf prince. He felt her pulse with fingers, pressing the against her neck as if she was too thickly padded. When no pulsation was felt, Thorin let his hand drop beside him and stare ahead in a cold stupor.

He barely registered an arm supporting him up and he vaguely recalled the journey back to their palace. All he knew was that Esja was dead. And his world became very small.

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><p>Rainion burst into the chamber where Thranduil was playing with the son, the healer standing nearby. The hard sound of the door opening made the occupants look up at him with questions in their eyes. The suddenness made the youngest prince cry and at that, Thranduil drew him close and whispered soft words to him, shooting a demanding glance at the Silvan.<p>

Rainion's eyes held no apology. Instead, they were steeled with seriousness and the way his jaws were clenched spoke masses of the urgency his stiff posture had indicated.

"We are at war," the Silvan declared. He didn't miss the sharp intake of air from his prince and lover. He didn't ignore blue eyes extending till they reached his hairline, the rosy cheeks losing their colour and Thranduil's beautiful face drying up with absolute terror. He ignored none of it. However, Thranduil needed to know.

"The High king has summoned. Men have answered. King Oropher has gathered up the army," The more he explained, more placid Thranduil became. His mouth agape, the initial waves of shock that he had quickly made way for concern and dread as he dreadfully looked up to his lover.

Rainion wanted nothing more than to comfort the prince then and there. He wanted to hold him and kiss him and say everything would be alright. That his fears were unnecessary. He wanted to lie. Yet he found himself unable to do so.

"He marches tonight," he added with a gentle firmness, hiding the way his heart wrenched at the sight of the prince tightening his hold on his son and staring at the floor with nothing but a ghastly eeriness in his eyes.

Thranduil placed a firm kiss on the child's forehead. Then without another word, he stood up and headed for the door.

A frown appeared on Rainion's temples. When the other was about to walk past him, he acted promptly by grabbing Thranduil's upper arm, causing the prince to stop.

"Where are you going?" He asked, "I am under orders to keep you away from the throne room!"

Thranduil didn't turn. He jerked off his shoulder, hoping to slide the other's hand off. Rainion frowned even more and tightened his grip as he said again, "The _king _has ordered me. And you are needed _here_!"

Thranduil caught the reference of his son and it was that which made him finally half turn at the other.

"I am a prince as well. My duties demand me to be with the king," he replied but in a surprisingly cold voice.

Rainion gasped at those words. He never expected someone—above all _Thranduil—_to speak as if he was a detached father! The little elfling was a boon to the new parent and Rainion knew just how uncharacteristic this was coming from Thranduil.

"You are a _father_ first!" He hissed, not bothering about the healer who had given them their room.

Suddenly, Thranduil faced him and as Rainion was about to rebuke him for his actions, he felt words failing to leave his mouth. Rainion paused midway and his expression frozen in place when he noticed the other's face.

Thranduil's eyes were glistening with fear and unshed tears, despondency was smearing his face and he was short of cracking as he shot a glance over Rainion's shoulders and to their son.

"My father will never succumb under Gil-galad. He is too proud for his own good," he spoke in whispers. "Our people will fall if there is no one to control Adar's pride. I _must _go." Their son was looking back at both of them. He was confused and scared, much like his Ada and Thranduil's 'best friend'.

"You will look after the kingdom."

"What?" It was a heresy to even consider that! It was so wrong and out of protocol. But most of all, it had such a _finality _and Rainion didn't want to think of their future without the one he loved.

Thranduil was stoic.

"You have responsibly gathered food for our people. You will take care of them with just as much responsibility. I have seen you work as has Adar. My father has faith in you. _I _have faith in you."

It was enough to make Rainion choke with tears. But it was what Thranduil said next which completely shattered his insides.

"_Meleth_, should I not...make it, I want you to know I love you. With all my heart. And if by Valar's grace we return, I'd like us to wed with _or_ without my father's consent. But if we do not," Rainion gasped and looked in the direction of the other. Thranduil has such solemnity in his eyes. Beneath it sat the moving sadness which came off in his breathless tone, "Raise him well. Tell him how much his Ada loves him. How much his _father _loves him. Tell Orophin he will always be loved and watched."

With that, he pressed a kiss on his lover's cheeks and slowly headed for the throne room. Rainion was left behind—stunned and speechless—while he moved over to comfort the child who began sobbing.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Okay, so those orcs and wargs were enroute to war. They killed Esja because they're evil and it is fun for them. They are very bad. Okayyy she needed to be killed because I'd have no idea how to merge this with the events of 'The Hobbit'. *cough*cheap trick*cough* I am wrapping this story up. So if it seems too abrupt, tell me and I'll try my best to fix it.

And, surprise! The kid isn't Legolas.

And as for Thranduil, it is not right or likely for him to go to war. But as he said, Oropher is a stubborn dolt. Because of that, his people would be in danger. Thranduil is needed to pacify the situation. And we know how that turned out to be, right? Please review and lemme know what you think so far!

Now for a wee bit of spoilers: guys, sad ending averted! Really~~ I mean it will be pretty sad and angsty for quite a few chapters but this fic literally now has a proper ending! Whoo!


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